


The Darkest Hours

by AlElizabeth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Family, Gen, Horror, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Suspense, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 07:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 64,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4555344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlElizabeth/pseuds/AlElizabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU set Season One. When John fails to return after a hunt, Dean drives to Stanford to enlist his brother's help in finding their father. There is one problem though: Sam isn't in California. Sam has disappeared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Dean Winchester turned up the volume as Black Sabbath's 'Glory Ride' came on the radio. He had the windows rolled down so he could enjoy the warm California breeze and the hot California girls.

No wonder you wanted to come here, Sammy; Dean thought with a slight smile, it's sun, surf and babes all the time.

Dean tried to imagine his brother on a surfboard and laughed at the mental image of Sam in Hawaiian-style swim shorts, trying to stay balanced on choppy Pacific water and looking like a complete dork in the process.

Dean's good mood faltered somewhat. He wasn't in California for a holiday. He was on a mission. He needed his brother's help.

John Winchester had gone missing three weeks earlier with no rhyme or reason, without saying anything to his oldest son. At first Dean hadn't been worried- his father went on solo hunts all the time and sometimes they took longer than expected- but when John hadn't returned any of his son's phone calls and the days began to pile up, Dean just knew something was wrong.

Dean wasn't sure what had happened to his father but he was certain that Sam would want to know that John was MIA. Sam had a right to know. Dean just hoped he could convince his brother to help him find their Dad- Dean knew he couldn't do it on his own. He wanted his brother by his side.

A myriad of emotions bubbled up inside of Dean- worry and fear about his father and nervousness about seeing his brother for the first time in four years- but he turned up the radio's volume to eardrum-rupturing levels and kept an eye on the street signs that would show him the way to Stanford.

Dean had stayed away from Sam for almost four years now- it hurt like hell to do so- because he respected his brother's privacy. Although Dean did not agree with Sam leaving for college, he knew anything he said would fall on deaf ears. Sam had made his decision and Dean would just have to live with that. It wasn't as though Sam would be gone forever exactly; his younger brother wanted to see them again and Dean could wait, however impatiently. Now though, Dean was going to see Sam whether his little brother liked it or not. Their father hadn't been seen in nearly three weeks- by anyone in the hunting community- and that set Dean's stomach curdling. Sam would just have to suck it up and act like a decent person because Dean wasn't above reminding his sibling who was boss if Sam was to conveniently forget that all-important detail.

John had also stayed away from Sam for almost four years but for reasons entirely different from his eldest son's. The ex-Marine was known for holding grudges- he'd been seeking the same mysterious, murderous entity for almost twenty-three years now- and no one was exempt from his black list, not even his sons. Even if a hunt took John and Dean close to Palo Alto or even California in general, John would try and pawn it off on another hunter or, failing that, immerse himself in the case so deeply that Dean wasn't sure his father was ever going to come up for air. The night Sam had told John about college, Dean had been almost positive his father was going to resort to less-than diplomatic measures to keep Sam from leaving. The argument that had ensued blew every previous one out of the water, made them seem like mere tiffs compared to the Atom bomb that Sam had dropped on them. Dean felt bad that Sam had left on such shitty terms with their father. John was only worried about Sam; he just didn't quite know how to show it in a non-overbearing, non-militaristic way. But John Winchester never forgave and he didn't forget and for almost four years acted like Sam didn't even exist.

Well, things are about to change; Dean told himself. He'd talk to his brother and together he and Sam would find their Dad, and oh boy, wouldn't John be surprised to see his youngest son!

"They can tear each other's heads off once I know Dad's okay," Dean murmured as he drove into the Stanford campus, searching for a visitor's parking lot.

W

The buildings all looked the same!

Everywhere Dean looked there was another lecture hall with peach-coloured stucco walls and a red clay roof.

How does anyone find their way around this maze? Dean wondered as he sought out the Registration office.

After about twenty minutes of fruitless searching and feeling like a moron, Dean gave in and asked for directions.

The Registration office was air conditioned and almost chilly compared to the warmth outside. Dean didn't even wait to get in line, he just flashed a fake FBI badge and all the co-eds moved out of the way, some more nervously than others.

"How may I help you?" the elderly woman at the desk asked, peering over her glasses at Dean. She had fluffy white hair and was wearing a dark blue blazer over a white blouse.

"Can you tell me where Samuel Winchester lives? Is he on-campus or off?"

The woman looked incredulous for a moment before Dean showed her his badge.

Typing swiftly into the computer, the elderly lady pursed her lips.

"I don't have any record of anyone by that name in the files," she told Dean; "He was sent an acceptance letter but never attended any classes."

Dean's brow furrowed and his heart skipped a beat, "Are you sure? Maybe there's been a mistake."

The woman shook her head, "I'm sorry, sir. Perhaps you have the wrong university."

Dean bit his lip. He couldn't have come to the wrong school. Sam had told them he was going to Stanford.

"Sir, are you alright? You're a little pale," the older woman asked in alarm at the rapid change in Dean's complexion.

"Oh, yeah, just not used to this heat, you know?" Dean muttered.

If Sam never came here then where did he go?

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" The woman wondered, ignoring the line of students now gathered behind Dean.

"Uh, no," the young hunter shook his head, "Thanks for your time."

Dean walked down the hallway toward the elevators numbly.

Sam has to be here, Dean told himself, I just know it. There's been some mistake.

Stepping out of the climate-controlled building and into the California heat, Dean squinted his eyes and peered around. If anyone knew where his brother could be, the student body would.

Dean stalked down the asphalt-paved walkway and stopped at the first building he saw that had kids pouring out of it. He leaned against the wall, beside the door and flipped through his wallet, finding what he needed within seconds.

"Excuse me," Dean approached a trio of young women who looked to be around Sam's age- maybe they even had classes with him- and put on his most defenseless expression, "I'm looking for my brother, have you seen him around here?"

Dean held up a faded, folded photograph of his brother. The picture had been taken in Sam's freshman year at a high school he couldn't remember the name of. His brother sat against the generic blue background, smiling shyly, his bangs almost obscuring his green eyes, wearing Dean's hand-me-downs because money had been tight that year.

Two of the girls shook their heads and moved on but the third smiled gently at Dean and carefully took the picture from him.

"It's kind of old but it's the most recent one I have," Dean explained, "He's kind of hard to miss though, what with that mop on his head and being as tall as a redwood."

The young woman chuckled softly at Dean's words. She had wavy blonde hair and blue eyes.

"What's his name?" she asked and handed the photo back to Dean.

"Sam," Dean told her, "Sam Winchester."

The girl's expression turned sympathetic, "I'm sorry, I haven't seen anyone who looks like him around campus."

Dean's heart fell into his stomach, "Are you sure?"

The young woman nodded, "I'm sorry."

Dean shrugged, "Nothing you can do."

The girl reached out and placed her hand on Dean's arm, "I hope you find him."

The young hunter smiled sadly.

"Come on, Jess!" the girl turned at the sound of her name and with one glance back at Dean, ran to catch up with her friends.

Dean walked slowly back to where he had parked the car, ignoring the warm breeze and bright sunlight. The day had suddenly turned dark on him.

He leaned against the driver's side door of the Impala and heaved a sorrowful sigh. Dean passed a hand over his eyes and squinted.

Dean lifted the photograph of a fourteen-year old Sam close to his face, "Where the hell are you, Sammy?"

Dean didn't think his brother had gone to a different university as the lady from the Registration office had suggested. Sam would have told them. Besides, Dean had seen the Stanford acceptance letter- it offered a full ride- and knew his brother wouldn't pass that up for anything.

Carefully folding the picture back up and returning it to his wallet, Dean unlocked the door to his baby and slid into the driver's seat.

Turning the key in the ignition, Dean listened to the low familiar rumble of the Impala's engine before grabbing his cell phone from his pocket.

Dean scrolled down the contact list before hitting his father's number and waited for the voice mail to come on.

"This John Winchester; if this is an emergency, call my son Dean. If this is Dean, leave a message."

"Dad, its Dean… again. Listen, I don't know what you're doing or where you are but you have to call me back as soon as you get this. Sammy's gone. And I mean gone. I'm in Palo Alto now and nobody's seen him at the school for… oh God… he never even made it to any of his classes. I know you and Sam didn't part ways on the best of terms but you have to agree with me that this doesn't feel-"

Dean was cut off when the length of time to leave a message ran out and he swore out loud.

Dean grumbled and found the second most important person on his Who-To-Call-When-Sam's-In-Trouble list.

"Singer Salvage," Bobby's gruff tones greeted the young hunter and Dean almost smiled.

"Hey Bobby," Dean answered, trying not to sound of the verge of panic.

"You find your Daddy yet, boy?" Bobby demanded, "'Cause I call first dibbs when it comes to kickin' his ass back to Kansas when he finally decides to grace us with his presence."

Dean chuckled softly but shook his head, "No, Dad hasn't turned up… and now I have another problem… I drove to California to get Sammy, see if he could help me find Dad and… well… Sam's not here."

"Dean? Son? What are you talking about?" Bobby's voice became full of concern and Dean could almost imagine the grizzled hunter taking off his baseball cap to run his fingers through his thinning hair in agitation.

"S-Sam never m-made it to Stanford," Dean stuttered, bile rising in his throat at the thought that something had happened to his baby brother while he wasn't around to protect him.

"Dean," Bobby's voice turned stern, "Are you sure that Sam in trouble? Maybe he just went to a different school."

Dean shook his head, "Sammy wouldn't do that… he didn't do that. He'd have told me if he changed schools… he'd want me to know in case… something happened. He was going to Stanford! Not Harvard or Yale or some university on the moon!"

"Is this what your gut's telling you?" Bobby asked, "That something did get to Sam and it's not just that he transferred and forgot to let you and your Daddy know?"

Dean sucked in a breath, "Yeah Bobby, I know that something's wrong here… I can just feel it."

Bobby paused for a moment, thinking of how he was going to phrase his next question, "You haven't heard from Sam since he left for college, right? And that was, what, three and a half, four years ago?"

"God, why didn't I call him? Why did I tell myself to let the kid have some privacy? Fuck privacy! I'd have called Sam every day, every hour of every day if I knew he'd vanish like a fart in the wind!" Dean exclaimed angrily and slammed a fist down on the Impala's steering wheel.

"Sorry baby," Dean apologized to the car, "I'm not mad at you."

"Son," Bobby said softly, "I know you don't wanna hear this and Lord knows I don't wanna even think about it… but… with Sam being missing for so long… there's a good chance that he's dead."

Dean practically growled at the older hunter, "No he isn't Bobby! Don't say that! I'd know if Sam was dead! I'd know! He's not dead! He's alive somewhere!"

"What's your next step?" Bobby asked, thinly veiling the real statement underneath: I hope you're right.

"Research," Dean looked up through the Impala's windshield, "Hours and hours of research until I find Sammy and whatever or whoever took him."

"That's what I thought," Bobby said, "You come on up to my place and I'll lend you a hand. Maybe we'll even get a visit from your old man if we're lucky."

Dean wasn't even thinking about his AWOL father- all he cared about was his brother.

"Thanks Bobby," Dean whispered, "I'll see you in a couple of days."

"I'll get a head start on the research," the grizzled hunter informed Dean.

He heard Bobby sigh on the other end of the line, "looks like coffee's going to be my new best friend for a while."

Dean couldn't help but chuckle but his mood immediately dried up as soon as he closed his phone and slipped it back into his pocket.

Dean started the car and pulled out of the parking spot, his eyes glancing at the empty passenger seat where his brother should have been sitting.

The young hunter turned on the radio and patted the dashboard comfortingly when The Hollies' 'He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother' began playing.

"I know girl," Dean murmured to the Impala, "I miss him too."

He blinked his eyes for a moment but then steeled himself, "Don't worry Sammy, I'm coming for ya. Wherever you are, I'll find you. I'm not giving up on you, baby brother."


	2. Chapter Two

Sam startled from sleep, momentarily confused as to what had woken him before he heard someone crying. Closing his eyes again, the young man put his hands over his ears and tried to block out the sound.

Almost unconsciously, Sam began to hum Metallica, the familiar rhythms comforting.

The heavy metal songs reminded Sam of his brother and before he knew it, tears were dripping down his face and onto the floor.

Sam curled into a tight ball, his knees drawn up to his chest, his hands still covering his ears and bit back the sobs threatening to escape.

Sam's heart ached for his older brother. He tried to remember the last thing he'd said to Dean but found himself drawing a blank. He couldn't get his sibling's hurt, disappointed expression out of his head. The betrayal in Dean's eyes when Sam told him he was going away to college haunted the young man's waking mind.

Sam shivered and coughed, tasting salt on his lips. He wiped his eyes with his shirtsleeve and gave a shuddering sigh. Drawing his blanket tighter around himself, Sam knew it wouldn't really help the chills but needed the comfort anyway.

Sam stared out through the bars of the cage as his mind drifted, thinking about when he was younger and all he needed was his Dad and big brother to make him feel safe and secure:

"Dee," Sam mumbled, tugging at the blankets covering his brother.

Dean rolled over and his eyes slid open, "What is it, Sammy?"

"I had a bad dream," the four-year old complained, his green eyes wide with fear.

Dean sat up and scooted back, "C'mere kiddo."

Excitedly, the younger boy scrambled onto the creaky motel bed beside his brother. Dean laid an arm over his sibling's middle as Sam cuddled up to him. Sam closed his eyes and sighed happily. He knew that Dean would never let anything bad happen to him.

Tears welled up in Sam's eyes again and slipped down his face silently.

"Hey you assholes! Pick on someone your own size!" Dean shouted at the trio of bullies.

The Winchesters had just arrived at a new school and Sam had become the target of a group of older boys whose favourite past-time was picking on the younger students.

Dean stared down his fellow seventh graders- who were from his own class- and silently dared them to try him.

Sam stood behind his brother, the knees of his jeans and his hands covered in mud and scraped, hoping that a teacher wouldn't appear.

"If you ever so much as look at my brother in a way I don't like, I'll be the last thing you ever see," Dean snarled and chucked the rock he'd picked up at the bullies, scattering them.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean turned to his brother and brushed the dirt off his knees, peering worriedly at his scraped hands.

Sam bit his lip and nodded. He was sure the bullies were not going to bother him again. That, at least was some comfort until their father had them move again.

Dad, Sam thought sadly, where did we go wrong? Why did things change between us?

The motel room door opened slowly but Sam was ready. He crept forward, giggling while his brother watched from the end of his bed.

John Winchester stepped inside, looking tired, but smiled when he saw his boys.

"Daddy!" Sam cried and held out his chubby arms so that his father could pick him up.

"Sammy!" John scooped up his youngest son and grinned when the little boy wrapped his arms around his neck.

"I missed ya," Sam mumbled, his face nuzzled against the shoulder of his father's leather coat.

"I missed you too, son," John smiled and set his little boy down.

Dean hopped off the bed and made his way over to his father and brother.

"Did you bring me back anything?" Sam asked, looking up at John shyly.

"Sam!" Dean exclaimed but John just shook his head and laughed.

"I did run into someone and they said they'd like to come home with me," John hunkered down and pulled something from the inside of his jacket.

Sam grinned broadly when his Dad presented him with a stuffed teddy bear.

"I can have him?" Sam asked, hesitating a little before reaching out for the toy.

"Of course, Sammy," John said and handed his son the bear.

Dean smiled as Sam hugged the toy to his chest.

"I'm gonna call you Charlie," Sam whispered to the bear before grinning up at his father, "Thank you, Daddy."

Sam couldn't remember what had happened to Charlie… he knew he'd carried that bear with him everywhere he went for ages before deciding he was too old for toys (around the same time he learned the truth about monsters) and then Charlie had been stuffed into the bottom of his duffel bag.

Sam wondered if his father had taken Charlie, thinking his son didn't want him anymore.

"Keep both eyes open, Sam," John instructed his son as Sam pointed the Taurus at the beer bottles lined up along the top of the fence. Dean stood a few feet away from them, shooting down his own beer bottles with ease.

"Relax, Sam," John laid a hand on Sam's shoulder and the boy looked up at his father.

They were in the forested area behind Bobby Singer's Salvage Yard. It was quiet and secluded enough so that John could teach his sons the skills needed for hunting, in peace.

Sam returned his attention to the line of green and brown bottles sitting twenty yards ahead of him. He took a deep breath, steadied his hand on the gun- the pistol felt too big in his small hand- and fired.

The recoil startled the boy and he stumbled back. The shot went wild, missing the bottles and streaking into the forest.

Sam's shoulders slumped, "I can't do it, Dad."

John's eyebrows knitted, "Just keep practicing, Sammy. You'll get the hang of it."

Sam sighed and looked at the gun in his hand.

John grimaced and ran a hand through his hair.

"Try again, son," John suggested and watched as Sam lifted the Taurus again.

"Eyes open," he reminded the boy, "Even breaths."

Sam did as his father instructed, his gaze aimed straight ahead.

The boy squeezed the trigger again, this time holding his ground as the recoil jerked his hand back and grinned when one of the beer bottles exploded in a shower of green glass.

"I did it!" Sam cried out happily, "Did you see, Dad? I did it!"

John smiled, "You sure did, Sammy. Good job, son."

Sam sighed happily when his father patted his shoulder, "What do you say we take a break and have some hot cocoa with Bobby?"

Sam's head shot up when he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the stairs at the far side of the large basement. Scrambling into a sitting position, he scooted to the back of the cage and hopefully out of sight.

The young man held his breath as he watched a quartet of vampires descend the steps, three of them continuing across the room while the fourth remained by the staircase, ready to hit the buttons that controlled the doors to the cages.

Sam regarded the vampires fearfully. His anger had burnt out long ago and its ashes had been smothered by the icy terror that now froze his heart. He watched as the other prisoners cowered apprehensively into the corners of their cages, eyes wide with fear and breathing ragged with panic. Sam tried to ignore his own rapid heartbeat and fear, trying to mask it with an impassive face. His Dad had always taught him to never show weakness towards his enemies because it only satisfied them even more.

It was the same every day: the vampires would pick out the people they wanted to torment in any way, under strict orders from Wycliffe and Felicity to never cause them life-threatening injuries- not because the vampires felt pity- but because the humans were food and needed to be kept alive for their fresh blood. The vampires had more than one purpose for keeping their victims captive; they also kept them for their own sick pleasure and amusement, relishing the humans' pain and terror, their begging. Some of the poor victims even fell to the ground before their tormentors, crying and begging before the vampires even touch them. Just a glance at the monsters' torture tools were enough to send them into hysterics. Sam, however, did not receive the same treatment as the other victims. He was not grateful to his savior though because she could be just as cruel as her fellow vampires.

W

Sam glared at the two vampires ogling him through the bars of the cage as though he was a zoo animal.

The male vampire was a few inches shorter than Sam, barrel-chested and thick-necked with a mane of grey hair. He had a slightly bulbous nose set between two eyes like steel marbles. He clothes were completely black as though he was a reverend or in mourning. He appeared to be in his late fifties or early sixties. Sam thought he looked a little bit like Kris Kristofferson.

The woman was the complete opposite of her mate. She had blonde hair cut into a bob, large, expressive blue eyes, a thin, bladelike nose, full lips and ample cleavage. She wore a bright yellow summer dress- a garment that looked incredibly out of place- and bare feet. The top of the female vampire's head only reached her comrade's elbow. She couldn't have been older than twenty-five.

"He smells different," the female vampire spoke to her mate, her voice the slow drawl of a Southern accent.

Both vampires stared hungrily at the young man. The male vampire nodded and the cage door slid open slowly. Sam watched warily as the female vampire stepped inside and walked toward him with measured steps. Every muscle tense, Sam could feel his pulse pounding in his temples and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. No way was he going to let this monster come near him without a fight.

The female vampire smirked as she stopped in front of Sam, only inches away from him.

"Are you not afraid of me?" She asked in her Southern accent. Now that she was closer, Sam guessed she hailed from Mississippi.

"Touch me and I'll kill you," Sam snarled in response. The vampire gave a throaty laugh and reached out, grabbing Sam's right wrist.

Sam couldn't help but be shocked at the strength the woman possessed. He knew he would not be able to easily break her grasp. Clenching his left hand into a fist he lashed out at the woman and felt his knuckles connect with her cheek.

Sam gasped in surprise when the vampire's free hand wrapped around his throat and she shoved him against the wall, effectively pinning him. The woman put pressure on Sam's neck, pushing him down until his legs buckled underneath him and she was standing over him.

Sam could barely breathe, his free hand trying to pry the vampire's fingers away from his throat. The vampire tightened her grip on Sam's neck and he stopped struggling.

Keeping the young man pinned with one hand, the female vampire slid Sam's sleeve up to his elbow and turned his arm over so that the inside of his wrist was exposed.

The vampire's eyes met Sam's and she smiled as numerous shark-like fangs slid down in front of her human teeth.

Sam tried kicking out, thinking he could unbalance the monster and free himself but with the lack of oxygen he could not manage the strength to pull his legs out from under himself. He gave a silent cry when he felt the sharp sting of vampire's fangs in his arm. Sam watched in horror as blood dripped down his arm and onto the concrete floor.

Sam slumped when the vampire released him, his arm falling limply and his head pounding with pain. He couldn't believe how weak he felt. He glared up at the female vampire as she licked his blood away from her mouth and smirked down at him.

He watched silently as the female vampire walked out of the cage, the door sliding closed after her and turned to her mate.

"So, what do you think, Felicity?" the male vampire asked, not giving Sam a second glance.

"I want him," Felicity answered quietly as though deep in thought.

"You know the rules: 'Share and share alike'," the male vampire replied, his tone disapproving.

"No!" Felicity snapped, "He's mine. I want him."

The male vampire frowned and his mate batted her big blue eyes up at him.

"Please Wycliffe," she leaned against the larger vampire, one hand stroking his chest.

"Felicity," Wycliffe said warningly but sighed and looked up at the ceiling when his mate turned around, her back up against his chest.

"Make him a gift to me," Felicity whined, "I never ask you for anything."

Wycliffe sighed audibly once again, "Alright. If that's what you want."

Felicity flashed a delighted smile and stood up on tiptoes to kiss her mate on the cheek.

Wycliffe shook his head and linked arms with Felicity.

Pausing before mounting the stairs, Wycliffe addressed the vampire who was standing by a panel of buttons that Sam would learn controlled the cage doors, "Send someone down to patch him up, we don't want him bleeding out now do we?"

Eyes smoldering with anger, Sam's gaze followed the two vampires until they disappeared from sight, the sound of a door slamming shut not even making him flinch.

W

Sam willed himself invisible as the vampires walked past his cage, not even glancing in his direction. He hardly dared to breathe as he watched the monsters stop before a cage at the far end of the room and talk quietly amongst themselves for a long moment. The young man turned away when he heard the familiar sound of a cage door opening. He ground his teeth together painfully when he heard the terrified pleas of the vampires' latest victim.

"No, please, stay away from me," the woman cried out uselessly. Sam heard the sounds of a short struggle and the young woman began to cry in earnest.

"Pl-please," the woman begged, her voice wavering from her sobs, "I-I don't w-w-want it."

Sam heard Wycliffe mutter something in a low tone too quiet to make out- perhaps some encouragement or perhaps not- and the woman abruptly stopped crying.

Sam shuddered and bit his lip to keep himself quiet. He listened to Wycliffe's plodding footfalls and the rasp of something heavy being dragged along the concrete floor.

Felicity's clear voice chimed out in the quiet of the basement, "Welcome to the family."

Sam closed his eyes and didn't open them again until the sound of the door at the top of the staircase slamming shut echoed around the basement.


	3. Chapter Three

Dean drove with all-speed to Sioux Falls. The twenty-eight hours it would take to arrive seemed to be working against him. Dean felt as though the sooner he got to Bobby's the sooner they'd be able to find Sam.

Dean left message after message on his father's voice mail, every one becoming more and more desperate sounding as the Impala tore up the miles.

Dean clenched his jaw in frustration and terror. Everything was falling apart. He had never felt so alone before.

The chords to 'Smoke on the Water' startled Dean and he fished his phone from his pocket.

"Dad?" Dean didn't even check the caller ID before answering.

"Sorry son," Bobby rumbled, "Just me."

"Oh, hi Bobby," the young man answered, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice.

"Heard from your father yet?" the older hunter asked.

Dean shook his head but then answered out loud, "I just don't understand it, Bobby. If Dad is out there somewhere, why isn't he answering his phone? I know he and Sam had their share of arguments but he can't ignore this! Does Dad maybe… could he hate Sam?"

"No," Bobby answered immediately, "Your Daddy doesn't hate Sam, why would you think of something as crazy as that? He most likely can't get reception where his is or something."

Dean sighed, "You're right Bobby- his phone just isn't working."

"Of course I'm right, boy," Dean couldn't help but smile just a little, "Now get your butt on over here so we can find your father and brother."

"Alright Bobby," Dean agreed, heartened by the older hunter's confidence that they would find John and Sam, "I still have a few hours to go but you'll keep a pot of coffee on for me, yeah?"

"'Course I will, son," Bobby grumbled, "Drive carefully, now."

Dean said goodbye to the older hunter and closed his phone. Feeling uncomfortable in the silent car, Dean reached out and turned on the radio and forced a smile when Led Zeppelin's 'Trampled Under Foot' started playing.

SPN

Sam's arm ached terribly. The limb throbbed in time with his heartbeat from the shoulder all the way down to his fingertips. He was sitting against the wall at the back of his cage, his head tilted back.

Sam listened to the noises surrounding him- the rustle of clothes as someone moved, soft crying, a stifled cough- and closed his eyes slowly.

The quiet padding of bare feet made Sam open his eyes half-way. He hadn't even heard Felicity open the door at the top of the stairs.

Sam watched as the vampire approached his cage, a hungry smile on her plump lips. She was wearing a dress again- dark red this time- and a cruel spark in her eyes.

The young man's face was a calm mask as the cage door opened and the woman stepped inside.

"Don't mind me coming down for a drink, do you?" she asked in a soft voice.

"Since you're asking, I wouldn't mind a cold one," Sam replied, trying to smile at the monster standing before him.

Felicity gave a haughty laugh and the young man sneered angrily.

The vampire reached a hand toward Sam and he flinched away. Felicity pouted and dropped her hand.

"You do not yet realize the position that you're in," the vampire commented, glancing around the confines of the cage.

Sam followed her gaze, "And what position is that?"

Felicity leaned forward and suddenly Sam could smell her- a mixture of copper and something earthy, decayed- and he pulled back in revulsion.

The vampire moved until her lips were nearly touching Sam's ear, almost as though she wished to confide in him some secret meant only for the two of them.

"I knew you were special from the moment I first saw you… and you are. Your blood is extraordinarily delicious… and I'll admit I'm a greedy woman… no other vampire will taste it. Not. Even. Wycliffe."

Sam shuddered and Felicity's lips brushed his ear as she chuckled.

"I will protect you," the vampire continued, "No one will ever touch you."

Sam swallowed painfully, "Except you."

Felicity's full lips curved into a deeper smile, "Am I that bad?"

Sam thought it best not to answer that question. The vampire frowned and lifted the young man's chin with two fingers.

Felicity reeled back with a cry of surprise when Sam's forehead slammed into her face, her narrow nose breaking under the force of the blow.

The vampire screeched in rage, her shark-like fangs slipping over human teeth, her fingers curled into claws.

Sam scrambled out of the monster's reach, knowing all too well that he would not get far, and smashed into the bars of his cage.

"Don't you dare touch me again!" Sam spat at the vampire and found himself trapped as Felicity whipped around, anger burning in her blue eyes.

The vampire's lips pulled back in a grotesque smile as she moved forward, "I like your spirit. Too bad it will have to be broken."

Sam backed himself into a corner and clenched his hands into fists. Felicity forced herself into the small space before the young man, crowding him in and cutting off any escape route.

Preternaturally fast, Felicity's fist struck Sam's face, catching his nose and right eye, blinding him with pain. Blood spurted from the young man's nose and his eye began to swell.

While the young man was distracted, the vampire grabbed his arm and pushed his sleeve up to the elbow. Salivating in anticipation, Felicity looked up to see that Sam was watching her through his one good eye, an expression of unadulterated hate etched into his features. The smell of the blood running freely from his nose was driving the vampire mad and she hesitated no longer. Taking a large bite, Felicity drank as much as she dared. She stopped when she felt the young man shudder and heard him gasp weakly.

Releasing her victim, Felicity wiped blood away from her mouth with one finger. She stood and peered down at Sam. He was listing to one side where he sat, both eyes closed and breathing in shallow bursts.

The vampire sucked on the tip of her finger for a moment, thinking, before turning and exiting the cage, a sly smile on her face.

SPN

Gravel shot out from beneath the Impala's tires as Dean skidded into the long driveway of Singer Salvage.

The young hunter was exhausted from the long drive but resting was the last thing on his mind.

Turning off the Impala's engine, Dean sat back against the driver's seat, listening to the tick of cooling metal.

He had hoped to see his father's hulking black truck in the driveway when he arrived but the conspicuous vehicle was absent.

Running a hand through his short-cropped hair, Dean opened the Impala's door, groaning slightly when his back protested the movement.

Grabbing his duffle bag from the trunk of the car, Dean took a deep breath and marched toward the porch.

Dean wasn't surprised when the screen door flew open and Bobby Singer stepped onto the welcome mat, a double-barrel shotgun pointed at the would-be intruder.

"Is that how you always greet your friends?" Dean asked with a barely-concealed smirk.

"Get in here," Bobby growled in response.

Losing his smile, Dean climbed the porch steps and brushed past the older man as Bobby held the door open for him.

"There's a fresh pot of coffee on the burner," Bobby told Dean as the younger man stepped inside and set his duffle bag down.

"You're a lifesaver," Dean commented, heading straight into the kitchen, intent on pouring himself a large cup of java.

Dean sat down at the kitchen table, mug of coffee in hand and slurped the hot beverage contentedly for a moment before being forced to come back to reality.

Bobby leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his brown vest. He watched the younger hunter in silence for a long while before clearing his throat.

Dean looked up and sighed, his expression turning sad and stressed.

Bobby sighed, "I started looking up any unexplained disappearances or accidents back around the time Sam went off to college but so far I've come up with a big, steaming pile of squat."

Dean gulped down a mouthful of coffee, "I should have made Sam stay with us."

Bobby shook his head, "You know he'd have been miserable."

"But at least he'd be safe! At least I'd know where he was!" The younger man exclaimed; angry at himself for not trying harder to keep his younger brother from leaving.

Bobby grunted; he couldn't help but agree with the younger man. If John had had his way and forced his son to remain in the hunting life, both Dean and Sam would be sitting in his kitchen now, drinking coffee and trying to figure out where their father was.

"You hungry, son?" Bobby asked the younger hunter because he couldn't think of anything else to say.

Dean drained his cup and turned in his seat, eyes going to the coffeepot still sitting on the stovetop.

"If you're making," he said as he stood and made his way to the oven, pouring himself more coffee.

The hunters remained silent as Bobby emptied two cans of stew into a saucepan and cut slices of bread. Dean didn't speak again until he had a bowl of beef stew and a slice of toast in front of him.

"How are we going to find Sam?" Dean slurped a spoonful of stew.

The older hunter actually shook his head, "I don't know. I can ask around if anyone in the hunting community's seen or heard anything about Sam but I've got a feeling the chances of anyone knowing what happened to your brother is slim."

"Do it, Bobby," Dean muttered through a mouthful of bread, "Maybe we'll even end up hearing something about Dad while we're at it."

Bobby nodded in agreement with Dean because he didn't dare voice his doubts in front of the young Winchester. At least not yet.

He hated it but he didn't think that they'd be able to find Sam. Whoever or whatever was involved in his disappearance had nearly a four year head start and any number of things could have happened to the young man in that time. They had a better chance of finding Amelia Earhart than Sam Winchester.

As if he knew the older hunter's thoughts, Dean swallowed a huge mouthful of bread and spoke, "C'mon Bobby, stranger things have happened."

Bobby grunted in acknowledgement; maybe Dean was right. Hunters lived with the strange and uncanny all the time and the boy did say he'd know if Sam was gone. Bobby knew how close the brothers had been when they were younger and wouldn't be surprised if Dean was right.

SPN

Sam put his hands over his ears to try and block out the sound of screaming. He curled up on the cold concrete floor and squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

Not even Metallica could drown out the horrible cries of pain echoing around the basement prison.

Sam let out a hopeless, watery sigh as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and threatened to overflow. Sniffing, Sam wiped his nose with his sleeve and reached out to grab his threadbare blanket. It was dark green and badly fraying at the edges but that hardly mattered to Sam. He clutched the blanket to his chest as though he was a small child again; afraid of the bogey man in his closet or under his bed and only had to hide beneath a motel bed's duvet for comfort until the danger had passed.

Shivering badly, Sam hugged the blanket, burying his face in the scratchy worn fabric as he choked back sobs of helplessness and fear. Sam knew that he was being weak; he knew that his father had taught him better but he couldn't stop the tears from falling once they started.

"Dean," he whispered as though his brother would be able to hear him- Sam wished that his brother would hear him- and thought for the nth time how hurt Dean had looked when he'd walked out the door for the last time, thinking only of going to California and leaving hunting behind forever.

"I'm scared, Dee," Sam muttered the words he'd so often spoken as a boy, words that would have his older brother by his side in an instant.

A lump formed painfully in Sam's throat because he knew that this time, Dean wasn't going to appear. Dean wasn't going to save him from the monsters this time.


	4. Chapter Four

Sam pressed himself against the brick wall at the back of his cage and tried to swallow down the fear clenching his gut, his heart rapidly pulsing against his ribs. He watched with wide eyes as the cage door slid open automatically and a large, shadowy figure walked inside. Sam tried to fight his growing terror and remember his training. The young man looked up at his tormentor, a male vampire named Myron who had an expression of gleeful malice on his face and a wicked looking whip in one hand, and felt a flicker of anger flare up in the midst of his fear. Sam was the son of a hunter and he wasn't about to give in that easily! Although the sight of the whip made all the saliva in Sam's mouth dry up and sweat bead on his brow in horrible anticipation, he refused show just how scared he really was.

The first lash came so suddenly- right across Sam's chest- and he couldn't stop the gasp of surprise escaping his lips, the burning agony forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut in pain. Sam curled into a tight ball, covering his head and neck as best he could with shaking hands. A second strike fell on the young man's back, drawing out a strangled moan before he could stop himself. The pain was bright- white-hot almost- and all Sam could do was pray that it ended quickly. But the fresh agony kept coming, slashes cutting into Sam's back, his waist, his sides mercilessly.

Sam never cried or begged throughout the abuse; he refused to give the vampire that satisfaction.

The corners of the Myron's lips curved into an ugly smile, flashing obscenely white teeth in the dim light.

"You know somethin' boy? I like you," he admitted in a rough-toned voice, swinging the whip again to lash against Sam's back again, "Felicity was right, you are strong."

"You don't start sniveling before the good part's even started," the vampire continued, kicking out his foot, the toe of his boot catching Sam's side, "First real challenge we've had. I like that."

"Sc-screw you," Sam croaked breathlessly and glared up at Myron, scrunching his face up in agony a second later when he no longer had the strength to hold his head up, letting his cheek rest against the cold concrete floor.

The vampire leaned down slowly, grabbing the young man's hair and pulling his head up. Sam groaned in pain as he was forced to look Myron in the eye. Sam's anger was reflected by the monster's own, a snarl etched on the young man's face.

"You had better show me some respect, boy," the vampire hissed, rage creeping into his voice, "I really don't like it when my food starts talking back to me."

"Do I l-look...like I...c-care?" Sam hissed weakly, his anger masking the fear that lay just beneath the surface.

Sam's head snapped back when Myron hit him; a trickle of blood ran down the young man's cheek and the vampire's shark-like teeth slipped down over his human ones.

"You'll pay for that," the vampire snarled viciously and shoved Sam against the wall.

The young man gasped as his abused back hit the rough brick. Myron kept one fist knotted in Sam's hair while the other grabbed his shoulder.

Sam didn't have time to cry out when the vampire sank his fangs into his neck. His legs kicked out and he pressed his fists against the monster's chest, trying to push Myron away but it was no use. Black spots encroached on Sam's vision, becoming larger and larger as he grew weaker. He didn't even feel any pain, just a kind of numbness.

So this is how I die, Sam thought sedately and the world slipped away.

SPN

Dean looked to his old friend when Bobby hung up the phone with a sigh.

"Well, I've called everybody I know," the older hunter announced and wiped imaginary dust from his hands.

"With any luck they'll call all their contacts and let 'em know what's up," Bobby continued when Dean failed to comment.

"Thanks Bobby," Dean muttered distractedly and squinted at the laptop screen.

"Find anything yet?" The veteran hunter asked. While Bobby had been calling up every hunter he knew, Dean had been searching the Internet for anything that could explain his brother's disappearance.

The younger man shrugged, "I don't know what I'm supposed to be looking for, Bobby. I don't know if I should be searching for anything supernatural or just some regular human sicko."

Bobby grimaced, "Hopefully some hunter's seen or heard something."

Dean nodded and his lips pursed in concentration.

Bobby moved to peer at the computer screen over Dean's head. He squeezed the younger man's shoulder comfortingly, "Don't worry, we'll find 'im."

Dean ducked his head down in acknowledgement and Bobby left him alone, shuffling into the kitchen to top up the coffee pot.

W

Every time Bobby's phone rang Dean hoped it would be someone with news of his brother- or if not, at least John finally returning his eldest's numerous voice messages- only to be left disappointed and increasingly agitated. Dean paced the first floor of Bobby's house- from living room to kitchen and back again- glancing at the hunter's old fashioned black rotary telephone whenever he walked past it.

All Dean could think about was his brother. Sam could be anywhere, hurt and alone and frightened. Dean didn't want to imagine what might have happened to his sibling since leaving for California but felt certain that if Sam had been able to escape and find him and their father, he would have. Dean decided he didn't care who or what had taken his brother; when he found Sam he'd make his kidnappers pay. Big time. No one messed with Dean's family and lived to talk about it.

The young man refused to even for a second entertain the idea that Sam might be dead. Dean would know if his brother was no longer alive. He just knew he would. Sam couldn't be gone. Dean would never forgive himself if anything happened to his little brother.

SPN

Sam's head felt as if someone had stuffed it full of cotton balls. His thoughts were sluggish and muzzy as he floated back up towards consciousness.

Dull pain radiated throughout Sam's body and he groaned in discomfort. He frowned for a moment when he felt someone running their fingers through his hair but relaxed, realizing it must be Dean. Sam wondered what had happened- had a hunt gone badly? Was he hurt? That would certainly explain the pain- because Dean had not shown his affection to Sam this way since they had been young children.

Sam opened his eyes slowly, fully expecting to see his older brother peering worriedly down at him.

Instead, Felicity was the one who met his gaze, a small smile on her lips. She was sitting on the concrete floor, using her lap as a pillow for Sam's head.

Gasping in shock, Sam tried to back away from the vampire. He flailed for a moment before he was forced to stop, panting weakly.

Felicity was still stroking Sam's hair and she frowned, "Don't move, Love."

"G-get a-a-away from m-me!" Sam tried to sound angry but his voice came out as a rasp.

The young man shuddered as Felicity brushed his bangs from his brow.

"You've lost a lot of blood," the vampire explained as Sam began to recall the events that had lead him to be in this condition.

"I th-thought you s-said I was yours a-a-alone," Sam hated saying those words but he couldn't help it, he wanted to know why Felicity had changed her mind.

The vampire frowned, twining a lock of Sam's hair around one pale finger, "Myron nearly killed you. He will be punished for his indiscretion."

Sam's arm slowly moved toward the side of his neck, as if he needed to confirm the vampire's words for himself. Felicity grabbed his hand and lowered it, "Don't touch."

"I hope you have learned to behave yourself," the female vampire continued as though she had not been interrupted.

Sam nodded, grimacing in pain when the movement aggravated the wound on his neck. He gave a shuddering breath when he realized that he was wearing an oversized grey t-shirt that was not his. Sam decided that he didn't want to know where it came from.

Sam lifted one of his arms and stared at the inside of his wrist- the flesh was marred by scabbed-over bite marks and dark bruises- and felt tears of helplessness prick at the corners of his eyes.

"Hmmm," Felicity murmured and leaned down, kissing Sam's brow and causing the young man to flinch away, "You'll be just fine."

SPN

"This is John Winchester; if this is an emergency, call my son Dean. If this is Dean, leave a message."

Dean closed his eyes as he listened to his father's voice, mouthing along with the words he now knew by heart.

Wiping a hand over his face, Dean stared up at the ceiling for a second before speaking, "Dad, I don't know what's going on… I don't know why you're not answering your phone… are you? Are you listening to all these messages? If you are than why aren't you here? Sam's missing, Dad. He's gone. I don't know where he is and I'm… Bobby's called everyone he knows but we're not sure if it will be enou-"

Dean cursed as the time-limit to leave a voicemail ran out. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his frayed nerves.

Running a hand through his short hair, Dean wandered into the kitchen and poured himself a mug of coffee from the pot.

He had barely slept the night before; his traitorous imagination conjuring up terrible visions of Sam's mangled, bleeding body and accusatory stare preventing Dean from getting any rest. Deciding that he would do better than just lying in bed awake, the young hunter had ventured downstairs hours earlier than he normally would have and put a pot of coffee on to percolate and once again try calling his father.

Footsteps on the staircase alerted Dean to Bobby's presence and he peered out the kitchen doorway at the grizzled hunter.

"Since when do you get up at the crack of dawn?" Bobby asked cheekily as he shuffled into the kitchen and poured himself some coffee.

Dean shrugged, "Couldn't sleep. I can't stop thinking about Sammy, you know? I just keep imagining the worst."

Bobby's smile dropped off his face and he nodded in agreement.

"You get a hold of your Daddy yet?" the veteran hunter asked, changing the subject.

Dean shook his head, "I just don't understand it Bobby. If Dad knows that Sam's missing, why isn't he here?"

Bobby sighed, "I wish I had all the answers for you son, I really do but you'll just have to ask John those questions when he shows up."

Dean nodded. He certainly would have a few choice words to say to his father when he arrived.

SPN

Sam watched silently as the cage door opened and the female vampire ladled some soup into his plastic bowl and set a slice of bread down beside it.

The vampire didn't even look at the young man as she doled out the food; it was like he was invisible or not consequential enough to be given recognition.

Before the cage door could slam shut, Sam peered past the monster and toward the staircase sadly. Escape seemed so simple: all he had to do was slip past the vampire as she gave him his food and make a run for it. Sam's heart sped up at the thought of beckoning freedom.

The young man remained where he was however. As tempting as it was to rush recklessly towards the stairs, Sam knew he'd never make it outside. The vampire stationed at the panel of buttons could grab him easily and even if he did manage to open the door at the top of the stairs without getting caught he had no idea what he'd be facing once he did. There might be more vampires or a maze of a building to try and navigate through. Sam was sure that if he did pull a stunt like that he'd never succeed.

The door closed as the vampire moved down the row of cages to hand out rations to the next prisoner. Sam sighed in resignation and stared for a moment his pitiful meal. He knew that the soup would be stone cold and the bread would be stale, like always.

Sam picked up the plastic bowl and noisily slurped up the broth, scooping up the leftover vegetables and noodles with his fingers. Setting the bowl down again by the door, Sam grabbed the slice of bread and moved toward the back of the cage. Instead of eating the bread, Sam squished it into a slightly crumbly ball so it wouldn't continue to grow stale and set it in the corner. Later, when Sam became really hungry, he'd eat the bread.

Rubbing his chilly hands together, Sam sat down and pulled his blanket closer, wrapping it around his shoulders.

What I wouldn't give for a hot cup of coffee, Sam thought wistfully. Licking his dry lips, Sam sighed and pulled his knees up to his chest, daydreaming about crappy diner coffee, greasy burgers and lumpy, flat motel mattresses- things that had seemed so annoying in a past life but now seemed heavenly compared to his new, small world.

Sam didn't even notice when tears began to slip from his eyes and down his face as he thought longingly about the things that had defined his world before his decision to leave his family for California and the chance at a 'normal' life.

Sam's heart clenched painfully when he thought of his brother. Did Dean even know he was missing? Was Dean looking for him? Or did Dean hate him now, because he had left? Did Dean think he'd betrayed their family? Did Dean even care?

A sob escaped Sam's throat before he could stop it and he bit down on his lower lip to try and quell the cries that threatened to follow.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry Dean," Sam whispered, "I'm s-sorry I left. Please don't h-hate me."


	5. Chapter Five

Felicity grinned devilishly as she leaned forward, one hand on Sam's thigh, the other on his chest, pinning him against the wall.

"I can feel your heart pounding," she said huskily.

Every muscle in Sam's body was rigid as stone. He barely dared to breathe.

The vampire chuckled and licked Sam's neck, causing the young man to grimace and shake his head.

Felicity laughed out loud. She eyed the young man as though he was a T-bone steak and Sam withered under the scrutiny.

She was playing with him, taunting him. And Sam just didn't have the strength to resist anymore.

"Don't be like that, Love," Felicity chided and cupped his cheek in her hand. Sam dropped his gaze, he wished the vampire would just get this game over with and do what she had come to do.

Sam's breath hitched and he felt tears well up in his eyes. Felicity lifted her hand from the young man's leg and took hold of his wrist instead. Turning Sam's arm over, the vampire pursed her lips as her gaze lit upon the bruising and scabs.

"Please… don't," Sam whimpered but Felicity ignored him.

Sam bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. The vampire's eyes flicked up to Sam's face and she smiled.

"I'll be gentle," Felicity smirked, "I promise."

Her fangs slipped down and the vampire dipped her head down to take a bite.

SPN

Dean looked up tiredly as Bobby stepped into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot sitting on the stove.

Leaning against the oven, Bobby gulped down some of the warm, strong liquid.

"Get any sleep?" The veteran hunter asked, taking in the young man's drawn features, the dark circles beneath his eyes and the stubble on his chin.

Dean only shook his head.

Bobby sighed, "I just don't know what to tell you, son."

Dean didn't meet Bobby's eyes, "You don't have to tell me anything."

The veteran hunter looked like he was about to say something else when one of his half-dozen telephones rang.

Pushing himself away from the oven, Bobby made his way to the bank of phones along the wall beside the doorway.

"What d'you want?" Bobby grumbled into the receiver and Dean couldn't help but look up hopefully.

The older man turned his back to the young hunter and Dean sighed and swallowed back the rest of his coffee, grimacing slightly.

Standing, Dean slipped past Bobby and through the den, stepping out onto the porch. He stomped down to the lowest step and sat, resting his elbows on his knees.

It was early morning- the sun's orange rays casting long blue shadows along the dirt drive- and a cool breeze ruffled Dean's short hair.

He stared out at the rusted, junky cars in the salvage yard without really seeing them. Bobby's guard dog- a Rottweiler called Rumsfeld- climbed out from underneath a dilapidated pickup and sniffed along his the gravelly driveway towards Dean.

"Hey boy," Dean mumbled and scratched the dog behind his ears; Rumsfeld groaning in pleasure.

W

Dean looked up over a half an hour later when he heard Bobby's boots on the wooden porch and heard the step creak as the older man sat down beside him.

"Who called?" Dean asked, biting his thumbnail distractedly.

"A friend of mine," Bobby sighed, "Name's Tanner Williams. Think he's found himself a vampire nest, a large one by the sounds of it."

Dean glanced at the older man skeptically, "Vampires?'

Bobby nodded.

"I've never heard of vampires before," he said, "I thought those were the only monsters that were actually made for the movies."

Bobby shook his head, "They're as real as you or me. Most have been killed off by hunters in the past but there are some nests still scattered around."

"Anyway," Bobby breathed out heavily, "Any hunter worth his salt knows that one man can't take on a whole nest of these blood-suckers."

Dean waited for a moment.

"And?" he asked expectantly.

"I said we'd lend him a hand," Bobby explained.

"We? As in you and I?" Dean's voice was sharper than he intended and he saw Bobby flinch ever so slightly.

"Look, I know you're stressed," Bobby began, "I know you're missing your brother and pissed as hell at your father."

"What are you saying? That I should just forget about them? Write them off and pretend like they didn't exist?" Dean stood up suddenly, hands clenching into fists.

"I ain't saying that, boy! Now would you shut up and let me finish talking!" Bobby snarled and Dean frowned but kept his lips pressed tightly together.

"We can't do anything right now about Sam or your Daddy," Bobby grumbled, "And you'll go nuts if you stick around here any longer."

"But Bobby, I-" Dean began but the older man raised an eyebrow, "I thought your Daddy taught you that saving people is the most important thing."

Dean sighed, "He did."

"Alright, and there's certainly people who need saving from these vampires Tanner's found," Bobby confirmed.

Dean didn't know what to say.

"It won't take long, son," the older hunter assured him.

The younger man nodded, "Okay, alright. When do we leave?"

"I'm going to call up some other fellows and we should be ready to head out the day after tomorrow."

SPN

Sam stared despondently out through the bars of his cage- shivering slightly even with his blanket wrapped around his shoulders- as he curled up on the cement floor, his bandaged wrist held out in front of him. Sam's arm throbbed painfully but he didn't care much, he was so used to the constant ache that he barely noticed it anymore.

Sam sighed and closed his eyes, trying to quell the feeling of hopelessness that covered him like a second blanket. Sam knew he was never leaving this basement, that he was destined to be vampire chow for the rest of his miserable life, he realized that he was never going to get the chance to apologize to his family for his mistakes. He still felt so guilty for all the angry words shouted at his father, for ignoring Dean's supplications and leaving without so much as a 'good-bye'.

Dad was right, Sam told himself, I should have stayed. I never should have tried to leave. I was naïve enough to think I could have a normal life and look what happened.

Sam barked a humorless laugh that quickly turned into a dry, hacking cough. Sam groaned at the burning pain deep in his chest and curled into an even tighter ball; the concrete floor of his prison seemed to suck the heat right out of him like it too was vampiric.

Sam opened his eyes slowly when he heard the door at the top of the stairs open and the sound of footsteps approaching.

Sitting up, Sam pushed himself back until he was at the rear of the cage, hidden by shadows and watched fearfully as Wycliffe and Felicity- accompanied by three others- crossed the room.

Sam put his hands over his ears as the vampires stopped in front of a cage close to his and the door slid open with a grating sound. The young man in the cage- not much younger than Sam himself- began begging the monsters to spare him.

"Please don't hurt me!" Sam heard the young man plead, "Please let me go! Please!"

Sam ground his teeth together and pressed his hands harder over his ears until it was painful.

"I w-won't tell anyone," the man tried again, "Y-you can trust me… wh-who'd believe me anyway?"

Sam heard Wycliffe's familiar shuffling footsteps and the young man became frantic.

"Oh God, no!" the captive was practically crying now, "No! Don't do this! I have a family, a fiancé!"

Felicity laughed loudly at the last pronouncement and the young man fell silent. Sam closed his eyes, knowing that it would be over soon.

W

Sam gazed straight into the eyes of the vampire who was watching him. She had been turned recently and Sam could tell exactly what she was thinking.

The cage door had slid open so she could give him some food but instead the newborn vampire had frozen, pinning her predatory eyes on Sam, nostrils flared as she caught the scent of his blood.

"I don't think you'll have enough time," Sam informed the monster in a quiet voice. She appeared to be calculating how long it would take for her to grab the young man and drain his blood before the older vampire at the control panel noticed.

"Alyssa!" The other vampire snapped as if on cue and the new vampire hissed in irritation, shoved Sam's food at him and turned away.

The door slid closed but Sam didn't move. He watched as Alyssa stalked down the row of cages, clearly no longer in a good mood.

Once both vampires had left, Sam grabbed his bowl and looked down at the cold chicken noodle soup. Sam's stomach growled hungrily and he lifted the bowl, drinking down the broth.

SPN

"So how exactly do you kill vampires?" Dean asked Bobby curiously, "Does the old stake to the heart thing really work?"

The older man shook his head, "Nah, it'd only piss 'em off. You gotta chop the head off."

"Huh," Dean grunted in surprise, "Well, I guess that works as well as anything."

Bobby nodded, "An' the blood of a dead man works wonders too. Acts like tranquilizer and incapacitates vamps."

Dean raised his eyebrows, wondering why he had never heard of this before, not even from his father.

"So no garlic or holy water?" Dean couldn't help but smirk.

"Garlic is useless," Bobby commented dryly, "And unfortunately holy water is too."

Dean scowled, "Well, that's great."

Bobby rolled his eyes in exasperation. The younger man seemed hell-bent on being miserable- not that he blamed Bobby in the least- but it was just so unlike him to be uninterested in a hunt.

"Just don't get yourself killed, boy," Bobby grumbled. He poured Dean a mug of coffee, spiking it with whisky and handed it over to the young man.

"Thanks," Dean muttered gratefully. Somehow Dean felt as though he was abandoning Sam by going on this hunt. Which was stupid, Dean told himself, because he had gone nearly four years hunting and believing that Sam was safe at Stanford when he wasn't. One hunt didn't seem like it would tip the scales in Sam's favour either way Dean looked at it. Sam had been missing for so long that if something bad had happened to him, it had surely been done already.

Dean wanted to be searching for his brother, not sitting idle in Bobby's kitchen, drinking coffee! The time that he would spend on this vampire hunt would be put to better use looking for Sam. But with absolutely no leads whatsoever, Dean was stuck. He guessed he could go back to Stanford and start from there but that didn't seem like it would work, by all accounts Sam had never even set foot on campus before he disappeared.

Dean sighed and sipped at his drink, the brew doing nothing to warm him

His fear for his brother sat like a ball of ice in the pit of his stomach and seemed to pull the heat out of everything around Dean. He felt like a failure. He had let Sam go on his merry way to college and had never thought once of trying to contact him.

I'm an idiot, Dean thought. It had been his job to look after his brother since Sammy was six months old and he couldn't even do that properly.

Where are you, Sammy? He wondered guiltily and drained his coffee cup. Standing, Dean rubbed a hand tiredly over his face before putting his mug in the sink.

Leaning against the counter, Dean told himself he should be getting his head in the game, if only to placate Bobby.

"Where's this vampire nest?"


	6. Chapter 6

Sam squeezed his eyes shut as he let out a dry, hacking cough. He groaned at the pain that burned deep in his chest and wondered if he was getting pneumonia. Blinking tears from his eyes, Sam stared out through the bars of his cage listlessly.

He didn't even bother looking up when the door at the top of the stairs opened and two vampires walked into the basement. Sitting up slowly, his movements stilted and lethargic, Sam shifted backwards until he could feel the cement blocks that made up the rear of his cage press into his spine.

The young man's breath hitched a little with fear as Felicity came to a halt in front of his cage.

Sam wrapped his arms around himself protectively and stared wide-eyed at the vampire as the door slid open.

"Please don't," Sam begged, "I think I'm sick."

The female vampire just smiled as she stepped through the doorway, "Oh, I don't mind."

Sam tried to make himself as small as possible, knowing that Felicity wasn't going to leave him alone, and attempted to blink away the tears welling up in his eyes.

The monster crouched down in front of him and frowned.

"I'm going away for a few days," Felicity told Sam as though he actually cared, "To visit an old friend."

Sam closed his eyes and wished the vampire would just leave him alone. He didn't fight when he felt Felicity's cool hand wrap around one of his wrists and draw his arm away from his body.

The young man watched as the vampire's sharp teeth extended, covering her human ones and she dipped her head down. He gasped in pain as the fangs sank into his skin and then began coughing again. Felicity's eyes flicked up to Sam's face as she drank, her grip on his wrist tight to keep his arm from slipping from her hand.

Sam almost doubled over as he continued to cough, his chest burning and sweat beading on his brow. Finally, Felicity had had her fill and let his wrist go. Sam didn't seem to have any more strength and let the limb fall to his side limply, blood oozing from the fresh wound.

The vampire tilted her head, watching curiously as the young man sighed tiredly, his eyes half-open.

"I'm going to miss you," Felicity said but Sam made no reply.

The vampire smiled and leaned forward. Sam cringed back from the monster and shuddered when Felicity kissed his brow.

The young man watched silently as the vampire walked out of the cage, the door sliding shut behind her.

Sam felt as though he could breathe again. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about the pain in his wrist. He knew that Felicity would get another vampire to come bandage it soon.

A few minutes later the door to his cage opened again and Alyssa stepped inside, carrying a roll of gauze and medical tape in her hands.

She was actually quite pretty with long black hair and a flawless olive complexion. She had large dark eyes and full red lips. She was wearing a pair of skinny jeans, a tank-top with silver sequins sewn into the fabric and grey ballerina flats.

Alyssa didn't speak or look at Sam as she bandaged his wrist, holding his arm much tighter than necessary.

Once the vampire left, Sam pulled his blanket over his shoulders and crawled into one corner of the cage, closing his eyes as he did so. At least he would be safe from Felicity's appetite for a little while.

SPN

Dean grinned as he turned up the volume on the stereo so that AC/DC's 'Highway To Hell' blared from the speakers.

Bobby leaned forward and tried to turn down the ear-splitting volume only to have his hand pushed away by the younger man.

"Driver picks the music;" Dean informed Bobby smugly, "Shotgun shuts his cakehole."

The grizzled hunter rolled his eyes, "We are not listening to this the entire time."

"Of course not," Dean agreed, "We can also listen to Metallica and Motorhead and Kansas-"

The young hunter flinched and laughed when Bobby made as if to smack him upside the head.

"Yer Daddy let you listen to music this loud?" Bobby asked, only partly joking and Dean's light mood immediately dried up. He fingered his cell phone in his jacket pocket. He wished his father would call. It was driving him insane not to know where his Dad was or if he was even alive. Was he even getting Dean's messages?

Dean sighed and put both hands back on the steering wheel, staring determinedly out the windshield. He was not looking forward to the long drive to Elko. Eighteen and a half hours and than an extra hour or so just to get to Tanner's vampire nest.

"Who else is going to be there?" Dean asked Bobby. He might as well know who he'd be hunting with; he wasn't really a fan of surprises.

"Caleb's coming along," the grizzled hunter answered.

Dean smiled. He liked Caleb. The hunter was only a few years older than Dean and treated him more like a brother than anything else. Although he was a friend of John's, the young hunter was completely the opposite of the ex-Marine. Laid-back and fun-loving, Caleb didn't really seem suited to be a hunter but Dean knew that his demeanor often helped him out. Witnesses to the supernatural often opened up to him more easily and he usually gained information others were not privy to.

"And a friend of Tanner's, Gordon Walker," Bobby continued, "An expert in killing vampires, apparently. Never met him myself but Tanner says he's the guy you'd want on yer team."

Dean raised an eyebrow. He'd never heard of a hunter only going after one kind of monster before. He wasn't sure if he believed it was right to focus only on a certain monster, allowing the others to go ahead and kill innocent people. John had drilled it into both his sons that all monsters had to be stopped.

W

"The most important thing to remember is: stay on yer feet," Bobby instructed Dean as the younger man bit into his bacon double cheeseburger.

Dean watched the older hunter as he chewed; Bobby setting his Turkey Club down as he talked.

They were sitting in a truck-stop in Casper, Wyoming, enjoying a quick lunch before heading out again. The small diner was deserted except for the cook, a waitress and the two hunters.

"They're not like the movie vamps," Bobby explained quietly. He needn't have bothered lowering his voice; the Country music coming over the speakers was loud enough to drown out a shouting match.

"They don't have ta bite their victims to turn them," Dean stopped eating and his expression turned to one of sincere curiosity, "If they get their blood in yer mouth, you're shit out of luck."

Dean swallowed the mouthful of burger, "You have to, uh, drink blood to become a vamp?"

Bobby shrugged, "Not drink, exactly, even a little bit is enough. Just keep yer mouth shut and yer eyes open and you should be as fine as paint."

Dean grimaced of the thought of a vampire dripping blood into his mouth. That was disgusting!

Bobby quirked a wry smile at the young man, knowing he'd just about made Dean lose his appetite.

"You're pulling my leg," Dean accused.

"I am not! I swear!" Bobby laughed at how pale Dean's face had grown over the past minute.

"That's just… nasty," Dean grumbled and shuddered. He picked up his burger and continued eating, trying not to think about vampire blood.

SPN

Sam watched as a vampire dumped a ladleful of cold soup into his bowl and walked away. He waited for the cage door to slam shut. It didn't. Sam peered at the vampire at the controls near the staircase. She was watching the male vamp dole out food, not paying any attention to her task.

Sam didn't move a muscle, hardly dared to breathe. The vampire working the controls didn't have a clear view of Sam's cage and wouldn't immediately notice that the door wasn't closed.

Unbelievably, both vampires, finished with their chore, turned away from the cages and walked up the stairs, talking quietly to one another. Sam waited until the door at the top of the stairs was closed and then counted to one hundred and then counted again just to be sure.

The vamps weren't coming back. They didn't even realize their mistake.

Slowly, trying not to make any loud noises, Sam approached the front of his cage and cautiously stuck his head out.

No blaring alarm was triggered and the door at the top of the stairs remained shut; so far so good.

Sam stepped out of the cage, still cautious, listening intently for footsteps.

One of the other prisoners realized he was free and moved to the front of her cage, grabbing onto the chain-link of the sliding door, "Hey! Let me out!"

Startled by the sudden cry, Sam put a finger to his lips, "I will, just be quiet."

Now other voices called out, "Let us go!" "Open the door!" "Get us out of here!" "Don't leave me!"

"Please be quiet!" Sam hissed, cringing every time someone cried out. Ignoring the pleas as best he could, Sam turned to the staircase and peered up towards the door.

He didn't know if it was locked or not. There was a chance it could be but he wouldn't know if he didn't try. Besides, the longer he took to decide a course of action, the greater the possibility a vampire would come down and find him.

Looking over his shoulder, Sam tried to calm the other prisoners before he began climbing the stairs.

"Where are you going?!" a frightened voice cried, "Let us out, please!"

Sam clenched his fists and continued. Although he hated the idea of leaving all those innocent people in the clutches of monsters, he knew if they all escaped in a large group the vampires would certainly find them and imprison them again. By himself, he could hopefully sneak past any guards and get help.

Sam stopped halfway up the staircase and stumbled to his side, hitting the right wall and almost losing his balance. His heart was pounding in his chest from exertion and sweat was beaded on his face and the back of his neck. His legs trembled and Sam thought for one terrible moment that he was going to pass out.

Wiping his forearm across his brow, Sam took a deep breath and continued onwards. He couldn't stop now. Gritting his teeth, Sam forced himself the rest of the way.

With one trembling hand, Sam touched the cool metal doorknob and was shocked when it turned easily in his grasp.

The door opened outwards and bright light assaulted Sam. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the illumination but when he did, his heart stopped.

Wycliffe stood in the doorway; seeming to tower over the young man, his grey eyes boring into Sam's green ones.

The vampire said nothing. Instead he reached out one beefy hand and gave Sam a shove in the chest. Unbalanced, the young man pitched down the stairs. The back of Sam's head connected with the concrete step as he fell backwards and he was plunged into darkness.

SPN

Dean stared curiously at the storefronts lining the town of Elko, Nevada. They seemed to be huddling up close to each other almost as if they feared the oncoming night.

The receding sunlight painted everything red and Dean shivered slightly, thinking about how much the crimson glow looked like blood.

Bobby directed him to a restaurant called Cal's and the young hunter parked the Impala and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

"This is where we're meeting your friend?" Dean asked. The diner was squeezed in between a barber shop and a tourist trap that sold cowboy boots and hats and Navajo rugs.

Bobby nodded as he opened the door to the diner. Dean shrugged. The older man knew what he was doing.

The diner had an awful Southwest theme that made Dean cringe. The walls were wood-paneling and the floors were a brown-speckled tile. The vinyl on the bar stools and booth seats and chair was a dark brown. The heads of bison, pronghorn antelope and mountain goats seemed to stare at the patrons with their glass eyes.

"Hey Singer! Over here!" a voice called and Dean turned to see a man with a deeply lined, tanned face and bright blue eyes peering over a booth near the back of the diner at them.

"Tanner! How ya doing?" Bobby approached the man first, Dean walking behind him.

The hunter stood to greet them. The man was wearing a pair of dusty blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a cream-coloured dress shirt with a black bolo tie secured with a circular silver medallion featuring St. Christopher.

Tanner Williams thumped Bobby heartily on the back.

"Good to see you! Good to see you!" the man chuckled before turning to Dean.

"Pleasure to meet you, son," the cowboy held out his hand for Dean to shake, "Tanner Williams the name, hunting's the game."

Dean smiled and nodded, glancing at Bobby from the corner of his eye.

"This is Dean," Bobby came to the young man's rescue, "John Winchester's boy."

"No kidding?" Tanner asked and laughed, "Your old man's a fine, hunter; a fine hunter."

"Do you know where he is?" Dean asked on a whim, "He hasn't been answering his messages for a while now and I'm getting worried that something's happened to him."

The cowboy shook his head, "Nope, sorry. Haven't seen hide nor hair of your pa."

Dean nodded and shrugged; it was worth a try.

"Siddown, siddown," Tanner said, "What're ya'll drinking?"

Bobby and Dean slid into the booth across from Tanner and ordered beer when the waitress appeared.

"Is Walker here yet?" Bobby asked and Tanner shook his head, "He's coming in from Rhode Island. Just taking care of a nasty vamp nest over there. He'll be here in time to help us out though; man would never turn down the chance to kill some of 'em bloodsuckers."

"What about Blacker?" the grizzled hunter asked and Tanner nodded, "Arrived a couple a' hours ahead of you two. He's getting his gear ready."

"What can you tell us about this nest you've found? Bobby asked, glancing around to make sure their conversation wasn't overheard by the waitress.

Tanner leaned his elbows on the table so that he could speak in confidence.

"I noticed something odd a few months ago," he said, "People were driving through here but then they just disappeared."

Dean raised an eyebrow incredulously, "Are you sure they just didn't continue on to wherever they were going?"

He couldn't keep the skepticism out of his voice and it was obvious Williams knew what he was thinking. He turned his blue eyes directly on the younger man and smirked.

"Don't you think that'd be the first thing I'd check?"

Dean shrugged.

"Nope, folks stop here, eat lunch, buy their overpriced souvenirs and then vanish."

"And you think vampires are responsible?"

Williams glanced at Bobby, "Why'd you have to bring such a greenhorn along?"

The hunter from South Dakota smiled, "Dean doesn't have to know much about hunting vampires but he can swing a machete."

"Thanks Bobby," Dean grumbled and smiled at the waitress when she returned with their beers.

Tanner told the two men how he was almost a hundred percent certain that that nest of vamps was located in an old motel some distance from the city of Elko. A lot of people drove through Elko on their way to Las Vegas and Reno, giving the vampires a steady supply of prey without the chance of being found out since they didn't appear to be snaking on the locals. Although Elko featured more of its share of chain hotels- everything from Best Western to Super 8- Tanner explained that vacationers oftentimes stopped at the smaller, family-owned establishments because they enjoyed the beauty and peacefulness of the Nevada landscape.

"How are the vamps getting away with it?" Bobby asked, starting in on his second beer.

"Lots of small places don't take debit or Visa, even now," Tanner said, "Hell; some people can pay in cash if the price is low enough. Money's a lot harder to track than plastic."

Bobby and Dean nodded. If someone paid cash for a room at Tanner's motel, there would be no way of tracking down that person to say that they never left; it would be as though they'd never visited the motel in the first place.

"What about cars?" Dean asked, although he already had an idea of what could have happened to the victims' vehicles.

Tanner looked out the window beside the booth onto the dusty street.

"There's lots of places to hide things out in the desert," he said, "Arroyos and fissures that form naturally that are all but inaccessible to humans."

Bobby nodded, "Wouldn't be nothin' for a vamp to drive out to some lonely gorge, put the victim's car in drive, get out and watch it disappear over the side."

Dean frowned, imagining a deep canyon out in the middle of the desert, filled with cars. Something about this was bothering him though; Tanner had said nothing about bodies. Now, Dean would admit that he was new to this vampire thing but he knew that whenever a monster- any type of monster, from a ghost to a werewolf- attacked, they left bodies in their wake. Tanner so far had not mentioned any bodies piling up in the local morgue.

"Where have you found the victims?" he asked, "Were they near this motel? Was there a keycard stuffed in some guy's pocket?"

Tanner looked surprised that Dean would even ask such a question, but then he ran his hand through his pale blond hair, "Well, no-"

"No?" Dean repeated, indignant, "So you don't actually know for certain that this motel is full of vampires? You're just guessing? Going on a hunch?"

The young man stood up. He couldn't believe that Bobby would drag him into something like this. Williams had no solid proof at all that anything supernatural was going on.

"The place is closed up during the day," Tanner said quietly, "It only opens up at night."

"What?" Dean asked, astonished, "That's your evidence?!"

"Dean," Bobby said but the young man ignored him, "This is insane!"

"It all fits," Williams tried to explain, "Vampires don't like the sunlight, there not likely to be very active while the suns shining-"

"You're off your rocker," Dean accused and pushed his way out of the booth, storming out of the diner.

He felt as though Bobby had led him into some sort of a joke at his expense. Vampires! Really! Tanner Williams, whether he was a hunter or not, was definitely not playing with a full deck.

Dean unlocked the Impala's door and sat down in the vehicle, fuming. He thought Bobby would burst out of the restaurant, hot on his heels and give him a tongue lashing but the older man did not appear. After five minutes Dean closed the door and started the engine.

Bobby thinks he so Goddamn funny, Dean thought bitterly. He pulled out of the parking space and drove down the main street, not really caring where he was going, just needing to get away.

What the fuck was he thinking? Even if there were vampires, there'd be bodies, maybe not a ton but shouldn't at least a few turn up?

Dean drove slowly out of Elko, not paying attention where he was going. He knew he never should have come along. He had wanted to stay and wait for news from his father.

Dean left the Interstate and cruised along the gravel-and-dirt country roads, past grey rock formations, pale green sagebrush and red sand.

Dean could see why so many people drove through this state. It really was beautiful in a dry, desolate sort of way. It made a person feel very small.

Turning onto a little-used road that was barely more than a path on the dusty ground, Dean drove up a steep hill, halting the car in shock when he saw a sprawling motel at the other side of the incline, a hundred or so yards from where the ridge ended in a gentle slope.

Grabbing his cell phone, Dean was shocked to find that he had been driving aimlessly through the desert for over an hour and a half.

The building formed an 'L' shape against the reddish sand. The central building appeared to be the office with twenty rooms making up the longer leg of the motel and ten, the other leg. An old red neon sign- turned off- proclaimed the inn to be the Tranquility Motel. Dean noticed that there were no cars in the parking lot and Dean felt himself breathe a sigh of relief. Scanning the seemingly abandoned beige aluminum-sided building, Dean noticed with an unpleasant jolt that the windows in the office and most of the rooms had their blinds drawn.

"I'll be damned," Dean muttered. Putting the Impala in reverse, the young man inched back over the crest of the hill as if he had just encountered a grizzly bear while hiking and knew best to move away slowly, lest any sudden actions provoked an attack.

Dean wasn't quite sure what to make of Tanner Williams anymore. Maybe the hunter wasn't as flaky as Dean had thought he had been. Maybe he had actually investigated the motel and the disappearances fully and just didn't want to tell anybody- even Bobby- his trade secrets. Dean wouldn't be surprised; hunters could be some paranoid men and women when they wanted to be.

The drive back to Elko took less time than the drive out, partly because Dean was going well over the speed limit and he also wasn't meandering on his way now.

The young man found a parking spot relatively close to Cal's- the diner was now filling up with the dinner crowd- and exited the Impala with a sheepish expression. Bobby and Williams were leaning against the redbrick wall of the restaurant, the latter with a small brown cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

"About time you showed up," Bobby pushed himself away from the wall and approached his young friend, "I was beginning to think you'd driven back to Sioux Falls without me."

Dean shook his head and turned to Tanner, "I think I found that motel you've been watching."

Williams raised an eyebrow, "The Tranquility?"

Dean nodded, "You were right. There were no cars in the lot and all the windows were covered up, like everyone was having a late siesta or something."

Bobby looked surprised at the younger man's quick change in attitude for a moment but then he just muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'idjit'.

Williams glanced at his friend, "Better get some rest now, we'll go in as soon as the sun's up."

Bobby nodded and followed Dean back to the Impala. The grizzled hunter didn't speak as they drove a couple of blocks to a motel where Caleb and Tanner were staying.

"Look, Bobby if you're pissed at me, I'm-" Dean began as they pulled around to their room and got out of the Impala.

"I'm not mad at ya," the older hunter muttered, "I know you don't get to hunt with many other fellas, and you're so used to the way your Daddy operates that I sometimes forget you ain't as worldly as me."

Dean smirked as he grabbed his duffel bag from the trunk and handed Bobby his luggage.

Letting them into their motel room, Bobby went straight to the clock radio on the nightstand and set the alarm for six AM.

When Dean saw Bobby take off his vest, boots and baseball cap he frowned, "We're not going for dinner?"

The grizzled hunter shook his head as he sat down on the end of one of the beds, "We'll need a full night's sleep if we're going to take on an entire nest of vamps in the morning."

"On an empty stomach?" Dean asked and Bobby shrugged.

"And why are you going to sleep now? It's still light out!" Dean continued.

Bobby ignored the younger man and settled down underneath the blankets without changing his clothes.

"Huh," Dean muttered. His stomach grumbled hungrily and Dean opened his duffel, grabbing the bag of beef jerky he had stashed in it.

He decided that he could coerce his friend to eat a quick breakfast in the morning if it came to it- Dean didn't think it was a good idea to hunt without some fuel- and munched resolutely on the dried meat, watching the sunshine wane from the motel window.

SPN

Sam groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. His entire body ached. The concrete floor felt cold against his cheek and he shivered.

Sam's eyes flew open and he gasped when he felt someone grab his hair and force his head up.

Wycliffe was crouching on one knee in front of the young man, a look of fury on his face.

"You tried to escape," the vampire said in a deceptively calm tone.

Sam tried to speak but no words came out, he felt sick to his stomach and wondered if he was going to puke. Wycliffe blurred in front of him and Sam closed his eyes, certain he had a concussion.

The vampire jerked on Sam's hair and the young man moaned in pain, opened his eyes again.

"You must be made an example of," Wycliffe told him in that eerily soft voice.

From the corner of his eye, Sam saw that they were in the middle of the room, the cages surrounding them, their occupants watching fearfully.

Sam startled when a hand touched his leg and his heart skipped a beat when he realized that he was only wearing his boxer shorts; his jeans were gone.

"W-what a-are you going to do?" Sam asked Wycliffe, trying to focus on the vampire and keep his voice from wavering without success.

The grey-maned vampire released his hold on Sam's hair and smiled, "I will make sure you never try and escape again."

Sam tried to fight as a couple of vampires grabbed his arms, preventing him from sitting up.

Sweat beaded on Sam's brow. He didn't know exactly what Wycliffe had planned but he knew that whatever it was, it wasn't going to end well. He had the distinct impression that the vampire did not like him in the least.

Not being able to see what was going on behind him, Sam jumped when he felt a hand wrap around his leg, just underneath his knee.

"Won't Felicity be upset about this?" a voice asked and Sam tried to turn his head to see what was about to happen.

"She'll understand," Wycliffe answered in a tone that said that he didn't care whether or not Felicity had a problem with what he was about to do.

Sam watched as Wycliffe strolled around him, moving closer to the victims in the cages.

"Watch closely," he told the prisoners and turned to oversee the punishment.

Sam cried out in pain when he felt the blade of a knife cut into the back of his thigh. He struggled to pull out of the vampires' grasp but they were too strong. Tears streamed down his face as agony shot throughout his leg. Hot blood streamed down Sam's thigh and onto the concrete floor. Sam's vision swam and he nearly blacked out.

The hand left Sam's leg for a moment and the young man prayed that the ordeal was now over. A searing pain in his thigh tore a scream from Sam's throat and the smell of burning flesh made the young man's stomach clench and threaten to expel its meager contents.

The pain became unbearable and Sam lost consciousness for a short time. He did not wake up when the two vampires holding his arms dragged him back into his cage. He did not wake up when the door slid shut, once again trapping him. He did not wake up when Wycliffe paused to watch him, a superior smirk on the monster's hoary features.

The door at the top of the stairs closed ominously behind the male vampire as he left the basement, certain that Felicity's pet- and the other prisoners- would not try to get away again.

When Sam regained consciousness, he was lying on his back and shivering fiercely. The pain in his leg was incredible and for a long while he dared not move. Sam tried to recall the words to one of Dean's favourite Metallica songs- 'Until It Sleeps'- to distract himself from the pain but the sounds of the other prisoners caught his attention.

He could hear someone crying and a man repeating the same two words over and over, "Oh God, oh God, oh God."

SPN

Dean greeted Caleb through a mouthful of breakfast sandwich.

"Better not eat too much, Dean or you won't be able to move fast enough!" the other young hunter joked.

"C'mon! I had a bag of beef jerky for dinner! I'm starving!" Dean exclaimed and washed down his mouthful with a swig of coffee.

Bobby glanced at the young man from over the rim of his own coffee mug and shook his head. The three hunters had met up in the tiny diner across the street from their motel. Although the restaurant was open, it was still dark out; the sun had yet to rise.

"So where's Tanner?" Dean asked.

"Meetin' up with Gordon Walker," Bobby said, "Letting 'im know what's what."

Dean nodded distractedly as he shoved the last bit of sandwich into his mouth.

"What's his story? Why's he only go after vampires?" he asked curiously.

Bobby finished his coffee and motioned to their sleepy-eyed waitress for a top-up before answering.

"Walker's sister was taken by vamps when they were kids," he said quietly, "his sis hid him so he'd be safe an' he was; the monsters didn't find him but they grabbed her."

Dean frowned, "Damn. That blows."

Caleb nodded, "Walker's sister was all he had in the world; their parents weren't around a lot so it was up to her to look after the both of them."

Dean could sympathize with the guy. It seemed that Walker's child wasn't much different from his and Sam's.

"So now he's killing every bloodsucker as revenge for his sister's death?" Dean asked and was surprised when Bobby shook his head.

"The vamps took Walker's sister but they didn't kill her," he said, "They turned her."

Dean's eyebrows rose up in surprise.

"When he was old enough, he tracked down the vamp who'd turned his sister and killed him," Caleb told Dean, his voice grave, "And then he found his sister and killed her."

"He what?!" Dean exclaimed, "Walker killed his own sister?"

Bobby nodded, "If you ask him about it- and I strongly advise against doing so- he'll tell you that it wasn't his sis anymore. It was nothin' but another monster in need of putting down."

Dean shuddered. He couldn't imagine killing his brother.

The bell above the door tinkled merrily and Tanner and Walker entered the diner.

Bobby, Dean and Caleb stood to greet the two other hunters and Dean took the time to scrutinize Gordon Walker.

The man certainly had an air of intensity about him. He didn't even smile as he shook hands with Bobby and Caleb.

"And this is John Winchester's oldest boy, Dean," Tanner introduced the two and Dean held out his hand.

"I hear you've never hunted vampires before," Gordon said, "I'd have thought your father would have told you about them a long time ago."

Dean shrugged, "Bobby says there's not many left and there are plenty of other baddies that need their asses kicked besides Dracula and his buds."

Gordon squeezed Dean's hand a little too tightly when they shook, sizing up John Winchester's oldest son as he did so.

"We should get a move on," Tanner announced, "I'd like to be at the Tranquility as soon as the sun's up."

The hunters filed out of the diner, Bobby and Dean heading towards the Impala while the other three hunters went to their own vehicles; Caleb and Tanner riding together while Gordon drove solo.

W

Dean and Bobby were quiet during the drive to the motel. Bobby stared out the window watching the sky grow light in the east. Dean was preparing himself for a completely new hunting experience. He was used to shooting werewolves and salting-and-burning the remains of ghosts, even exorcising demons, but he had no idea what it would be like to chop the head off a vampire.

At least they were going in during the day, that way the monsters would be asleep.

"Should be like shooting fish in a barrel, eh Bobby?" Dean asked out loud, feeling confident.

"Just 'cause they're asleep don't mean they won't wake up," the older hunter answered, much to Dean's chagrin.

"Great," he muttered, "Is there any last-minute facts I should know before we kill these things? Are they going to turn into bats or wolves? Maybe vanish into thin air?"

Bobby reached out and smacked the younger man on the side of the head, "Don't be a smartass."

W

The machete felt heavy in Dean's hands as he stood beside Bobby. The grizzled hunter had put his baseball cap on backwards to make it easier for him to see and Dean couldn't help but smirk at the sight; it made Bobby look like a big, bearded ten-year old.

"Something funny?" Walker asked Dean and the younger man shook his head.

Tanner put his finger to his lips, telling all four of the hunters they needed to be quiet. Dean couldn't help but feel anxious. They really had no idea what they were walking into. Tanner had given them a rough estimate of how many vamps he thought would be there- twenty, give or take- but that could end up being dead wrong. Dean wished he had his Dad by his side. John was an excellent hunter; focused and calm in a crisis, able to adapt to many different situations and one hell of a shot. Dean sighed and tightened his grip on his machete.

Tanner quickly picked the lock to the front office and pushed the door open slowly as though prepared for a vamp to jump out at him any second.

They had come to the conclusion that none of the vamps would be in the patrons rooms because the creatures tended to like sleeping close to one another. Dean had smirked at the thought of one giant vampire slumber party. Now the idea didn't seem so humorous. If all the vampires attacked at once… well…Dean just hoped that wouldn't happen.

With Tanner on point, followed by Walker, Bobby, Dean and Caleb bringing up the rear, the hunters entered the office.

Dean noticed that the reception desk and lounge area were both surprisingly clean and free of clutter. Dean wasn't sure what he was expecting but he certainly didn't think the vamps would clean house.

No one would want to stay here if the place looked like a pig-sty, he reminded himself.

There was a set of stairs on the left side of the front desk that looked as though they led to the proprietors' apartment. With hand signals, Tanner informed his fellow hunters that he and Gordon would investigate upstairs.

Bobby nodded and nudged Dean so that he would go around to the other side of the desk. Curious, Caleb moved in behind the desk and flipped through the various papers sitting on top of its wooden surface.

A shriek and a thump startled all three hunters and within seconds they were all tearing up the stairs, ready for the fight.

Dean reached the landing first and was nearly bowled over when a young man dashed out of one of the rooms and ran right into him. Dean swung his machete and lopped off the vampire's head, causing the body to topple down the stairs, nearly tripping Bobby and Caleb on their way up.

On instinct, Dean rushed into the room the vamp had come from and was faced by three very pissed-off looking women.

A redheaded vamp leaped at Dean and he swung the machete blindly, missing the monster's neck and burying the blade in her abdomen instead. The woman shrieked and Dean swore, trying to pull the weapon free; it was stuck.

Dean maneuvered so that the skewered redhead was standing between him and the other two vampires. The injured vamp apparently didn't like being trapped as much as Dean did. She grabbed the blade of the machete and tried to tug it out of her abdomen.

Dean backed into a corner, making it impossible for the other two vamps to attack him from the sides. He yanked on the machete again, eliciting a scream from the vampire.

"Believe me lady," he growled through clenched teeth, "I don't like this either."

Caleb ducked into the room, winked at Dean and dispatched the two other vamps while they were distracted. Next, he easily beheaded the redhead and Dean let go of the machete so he wouldn't be brought down with the falling body.

"And you say this is your first vampire hunt," Caleb commented jokingly.

"Laugh it up," Dean grunted as he grabbed the machete's handle again and settled his boot against the dead vamp's chest, finally freeing the weapon with a wet squelching sound.

The two young hunters left the room cautiously, ready for another attack. The sounds of fighting drew Dean and Caleb's attention to a door that was open at the end of the hall and both young men headed in that direction, weapons raised.

Dean was grabbed from behind and slammed into the wall, roughly. A tall male vampire with longish grey hair was towered over the hunter. Dean swung his machete but the monster blocked the blade and grabbed the front of the young man's shirt. The vampire opened his mouth and his fangs slid down from his human teeth. Dean stared at what he could only think of what the mouth of a shark. He cringed away from the vampire. The monster ducked his head down to bite but stopped suddenly, a gurgle escaping his throat.

Dean looked down and saw the blade of a machete sticking out from the vampire's neck. The blade was ripped free, nearly decapitating the monster in the process and the vampire released Dean. Gordon Walker smirked at Dean and turned away.

Great, the young man thought, this is the second time I've needed someone to come to my rescue. It was embarrassing!

Stepping over the fallen vampire's body, Dean was about to continue on towards the end of the hall but he paused at the stairs.

Someone should really make sure none of these bastards slip away; he decided and descended the staircase, smiling confidently.

Dean peered around the front desk and lounge area, seeing no sneaky vamps trying to flee undetected.

The sounds of fighting upstairs were growing fainter and Dean guessed that the majority- if not all- of the vampires had been sleeping upstairs.

A creak made Dean spin around and he came face to face with a young woman with long black hair, olive skin and large dark eyes. She opened a mouth full of shark-like fangs and hissed.

Dean lifted his machete and took the vampire's head off with ease. The body tumbled lifelessly to the floor and Dean frowned. The girl had been intensely hot, even for a bloodthirsty monster.

Lifting a foot to kick the body out of the way, Dean paused when he noticed that her feet were keeping a door he had not previously noticed, ajar.

"What the heck?" Dean muttered. The door was set into the wall on the right side of the reception desk, covered completely by wallpaper. Reaching out, Dean grabbed the door and pulled it all the way open. It was made of metal and was four inches thick. Peering into the doorway, Dean saw a concrete staircase leading into darkness.

Glancing over his shoulder, Dean saw neither his fellow hunters nor any vampires. Leaving the door open, he proceeded down the stairs, keeping his machete ready in case he encountered any more bloodsuckers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although the town of Elko, Nevada is a real place, the Tranquility Motel was taken from a Dean Koontz book titled, "Strangers".


	7. Chapter Seven

When Felicity returned from visiting her friend she was furious. How dare Wycliffe go against her wishes! No one was to touch the boy but her! Had she not made that clear after Myron nearly killed him in a fit of rage?

After her mate explained that the boy had been attempting to escape however, Felicity calmed down somewhat. She was still displeased with Wycliffe but she understood why he had acted as he had.

Sam gritted his teeth in pain when Felicity grabbed the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall at the back of his cage, jarring his injured leg.

"Why did you try and leave? Do you not like me?" the vampire asked and Sam looked away; he wasn't going to answer that.

"I don't hurt you," Felicity commented, laying her free hand on Sam's cheek, "Not like the others."

Sam closed his eyes. He guessed he should be happy that Felicity wasn't a sadist in that sense. The other vampires tortured the prisoners for their own sick entertainment- like Myron had tortured him- but Felicity had made it clear that Sam was off-limits.

"Why am I still here?" Sam asked quietly. He didn't know how long he had been in this basement but he was sure it was already longer than most of the people here.

Felicity smiled, "Because you're special."

The vampire licked her lips as if to emphasize the point and Sam struggled against her.

"It has been a while since I've fed," Felicity said, her blue eyes meeting Sam's green ones, "The others just don't taste the same."

Sam shuddered and Felicity grabbed his wrist, brining it up to her mouth.

W

Sam stared despondently at the cold soup Alyssa doled out into his bowl. He didn't move as the door to his cage slammed shut and she walked away. He let out a hacking cough that made his chest burn and he groaned in pain.

Tugging his old, frayed blanket further up his shoulders, Sam laid down, staring at the wall at the back of his cage. He curled up in a ball to try and conserve his warmth. His leg- the injury old by now- ached but Sam barely noticed. He had grown used to the familiar bone-deep throb of the crippled limb. Sam did not try to escape again.

SPN

Dean crept down the stairs, eyes keen and ears alert for any hidden enemies. The staircase was steep, made of concrete and there was little light to guide Dean's way. He guessed that vamps didn't need everything to be lit up like Christmas all the time since they had excellent night vision anyway. Dean just wished he had brought a flashlight or something because he didn't feel like missing a step and breaking his neck. Wouldn't that just impress Bobby's friends?

Dean froze when he heard a whimper drift up from somewhere below him.

Vampire? Dean thought but then he recalled Tanner's missing tourists.

"Oh no," the hunter muttered under his breath, "You have got to be kidding me."

Although Dean kept his machete ready, he tried to prepare himself for what he might find at the bottom of the stairs.

Stepping onto the floor, Dean's eyes widened at the long row of cages towards the back of the room. Dean counted a dozen of them and nearly all of them were occupied.

"Please don't hurt us!" a male voice cried and Dean lowered his weapon.

"It's okay," he said in a calm voice, "I'm not a vampire. I'm one of the good guys."

The room was slightly chilly and there was a faint scent of blood in the room.

"Let us out!" a woman begged and Dean began hurrying to her cage, fingers fumbling for his lock-pick in his back pocket.

"No! Over by the stairs," the woman pointed through the chain-link of her cage with one trembling finger.

Turning, Dean saw the panel the woman meant and went to it. He frowned at the numerous buttons before taking a chance and pressed one. The door to the empty cage to his left slid open with a groan.

"Please hurry," another voice called out, laced with fear.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs caused Dean to raise his machete and the victims to fall silent, paralyzed with fright.

"Dean!" Bobby's gruff voice called and the younger hunter sighed with relief.

"Down here Bobby!" he answered and turned his attention back to the panel of buttons.

"Christ almighty," the grizzled hunter muttered when he saw the cages.

"I can't figure out how to open all of them at the same time," Dean growled, frustrated.

Bobby barely glanced at the control panel before slamming the blade of his machete into it, sending sparks flying.

"Jesus Bobby!" Dean jumped back in surprise, "Warn a guy next time!"

"Try to open them now," Bobby rumbled and Dean nodded, heading over to the woman's cage. Gripping the edges, he was able to slide the door open slowly, enough for the woman to slip through.

"I'll get the others down here," Bobby told Dean, "Don't let 'em go anywhere. We'll need to ask them some questions."

"Thank you, thank you," the woman grabbed Dean's arm, her expression wild and grateful. Dean smiled, grateful that he had been able to help.

"Do you think you can get some of these doors open?" he asked the woman and she nodded hesitantly, "I can try."

SPN

Sam heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.

Wycliffe, he thought, and closed his eyes.

"Please don't hurt us!" one of the male prisoners begged and Sam put his hands over his ears to try and block out the sound of what he knew was coming. The man had been dragged down the stairs only a few hours ago- what seemed like a few hours ago, there was no way of telling time down here- and now Wycliffe was certainly here for the first bite.

Sam heard Wycliffe say something but it was too quiet to hear. He curled up as tight as he could, pulling the blanket over his head to cover himself entirely.

"Let us out!" one woman nearly shrieked and Sam gritted his teeth. If she didn't shut up then she was going to get punished.

Trying to quell his terror, Sam began humming a Metallica song as quietly as possible, reciting the lyrics in his head.

"No! Over by the stairs," the woman shouted, sounding like she was giving instructions.

What was going on?

Sam cringed when one of the cages near him opened with a rusty sound. Did the vampires have a new victim?

"Please hurry," Sam heard someone cry from across the room.

Sam wanted to know what was happening but he was too scared to look. A second set of footsteps began descending the stairs and now Sam was convinced it was the vampires; they rarely came down here by them-

"Dean!" an achingly familiar voice exclaimed and Sam's heart skipped a beat.

Bobby?! Was it possible?

"Down here Bobby!" the owner of the heavy footsteps- not Wycliffe- called and Sam's eyes filled with tears.

It was Dean! His brother was here! Dean had found him!

Sam's heart sank. It could just be a dream. He'd had dreams like this before, so vivid that they seemed as though they were actually happening, but then he'd wake up and be back in his cage with his chest aching and sweat running down his face.

No, better not say anything. Let the dream continue for a little while longer.

Sam bit his lip and listened to his brother and friend as they figured out a way to release all the prisoners.

"Christ almighty," Bobby said, his tone shocked.

Sam almost smiled. It sounded so much like the gruff old hunter.

"I can't figure how out how to open all of them at the same time," Dean growled in frustration.

Hit the large green button, Sam thought.

The squeal of metal against metal, of cracking plastic and the sound of severed electrical wires sparking made Sam startle.

"Jesus Bobby! Warn a guy next time!" Dean's surprised and slightly indignant voice demanded.

"Try to open them now," Bobby told Sam's brother and the young man heard footsteps walk into the middle of the room. The sound of grating and scraping filled the basement and then a woman's voice spoke up, thanking Dean.

"I'll get the others down here," Bobby began but the rest of his words were nothing but white noise to Sam.

The young man lifted his head slightly. Others? There were other hunters with Dean and Bobby? Was his Dad here too?

This wasn't usually part of his dream. He almost always woke up by now. Never actually escaping but at least having his brother or Bobby or his father find him.

Sam heard more cage doors being tugged open. He heard a meek voice ask Dean if he had killed all the vampires.

"Yeah," Dean grunted as he pulled on a cage door, "We got them all."

This wasn't a dream. This was real. Dean was really here!

Tears sprang to Sam's eyes and he called out his brother's name.

"D'n."

Four sets of footfalls came down the stairs, announcing the arrival of Dean's fellow hunters.

SPN

Dean gritted his teeth as he pulled open a cage and allowed a young man- a teenager really, probably sixteen or seventeen- to escape.

He turned when he heard Bobby, Tanner, Gordon and Caleb descend the stairs.

Bobby and Tanner immediately corralled the freed prisoners and began comforting them. Caleb ran to Dean's side and started helping opening the cage doors.

Gordon watched the other hunters, his machete raised as though he imagined the prisoners to be a threat to him.

"You wanna give us a hand, Gordon?" Dean peered over his shoulder and glared at the dark-skinned hunter.

As though the idea of helping out innocent people was abhorrent, Gordon sighed and approached one of the cages. Dean glanced at Caleb and the other young hunter just rolled his eyes.

"Ever seen anything like this?" Dean asked Caleb and he shook his head, "This is new to me."

Dean nodded and frowned. It was clear that some of these people had been here for a while. Bobby had told him that sometimes vampires kept their victims for a few days before finally draining them dry but this was different. Dean took the hand of a pretty brunette as she stepped cautiously from her cage, her arms covered in bite marks. Her face was thin and her dark brown eyes were sunken. The dress she wore almost hung on her frame.

"What day is it?" she asked in a quiet voice and Dean told her the date.

The young woman had been missing for thee weeks.

W

"Is this it?" Tanner asked as Dean led the seventh prisoner over to the group. They all huddled together, a couple of the women clinging to one another for support. It was a sad sight. Dean had seen a lot of victims of supernatural creatures but this had to be the worst. They were still terrified, as though they expected this all to be some sort of a dream or trick.

"There's another guy," a teenage boy spoke up, "In there."

The young man pointed and Dean could just make out a form huddled beneath a ratty, old blanket. How could he have missed him?

Dean approached the cage, speaking soothingly. While the other prisoners had come to the front of their cages, fingers curled around the chain-link of the door, anxious to be set free, this man had not moved or made a sound as far as the hunter could tell.

Gordon appeared beside Dean, his machete raised.

"Put that down," Dean hissed, irritated at the dark-skinned hunter's behaviour.

"Could be a trap," Walker argued and refused to lower his weapon.

Dean sighed, "Just don't swing until we know for sure he's a vampire or not."

Gordon didn't respond and Dean hoped that the man wasn't already planning on killing the poor guy.

Dean grabbed the door and shoved it open. The only movement that Dean could make out was the tremors twitching the blanket.

"Hey, pal," Dean said in a louder-than-usual tone, "You're safe. You don't have to be scared."

Crouching down- well aware of Gordon standing over him, ready for an attack- Dean grabbed a corner of the blanket and pulled it away from the man. Dean gasped in shock and almost fell over backwards at the sight. Gordon moved closer to the man and branched his machete, eager to draw blood. But the man did not attack. He just stared up at Dean from where he was curled up on the floor.

"We're not going to hurt you," Dean told the man and raised his hands to show he was weaponless. He nudged Gordon's leg and the dark-skinned hunter reluctantly sheathed his machete.

The man looked awful. He was extremely thin and he was shaking violently. His shoulder length hair was a tangled mess and it was clear he hadn't shaved in a long, long time. Dean quickly looked the man over and saw that he was wearing only an oversized grey t-shirt and boxer shorts. No wonder the guy was shivering.

Dean froze when the man reached out and touched him, one ice-cold hand resting on his arm.

"D-D'n," the man said almost reverently and the hunter nodded.

"Yeah," he said gently, "My name's Dean. This guy behind me is Gordon."

"Y-you came," the man said, his voice so quiet that Dean had to strain to hear him.

"C'mon Winchester," Gordon ground out from behind Dean, "Get him up so we can get out of here."

"Can you stand?" Dean asked; the man had not moved, had made no attempt to stand as the other prisoners had, waiting impatiently at the front of their cages to be let out.

The man lowered his gaze and raised his other hand to grip Dean's arm. Realizing what the man wanted, Dean stood up from his crouch slowly, brining the man up with him.

"You need some help?" Caleb called out to Dean.

"Sure," he commented since Gordon wasn't doing anything.

The other hunter squeezed into the cage alongside Dean- pushed Gordon out in the process- and took hold of one of the man's arms. The man turned his head to look at Caleb and Dean could have sworn he saw a look of recognition cross his thin features.

"Okay," Dean muttered, "Here we go."

With the two hunters supporting him, the man took a step forward and whimpered, favouring his right leg. Dean glanced down and saw that the limb clearly was not working properly, the man almost dragging it as he attempted to walk.

"Can you hold your leg up?" he asked and the young man lifted the right leg a couple of inches off the floor.

Gripping the man's arms tighter, Dean and Caleb were able to help him out of the cage without causing him unnecessary pain. The two hunters guided him to the steps and helped lower him onto one of the lower ones.

"What's your name?" Caleb asked, leaning down so that he was more or less eye level with the man.

"S-Sam," he answered and Dean's heart skipped a beat.

No, its a coincidence. He doesn't even look like Sammy.

Dean turned and walked over to Bobby and Tanner to see what their next plan of action would be.

"D'n!" all eyes turned to the man sitting on the stairs and Dean frowned.

"Don't worry, Sam," he said, "We'll get you to your family."

The young man shook his head and struggled to stand. Luckily Caleb was still with him and helped him up. Dean heard his fellow hunter murmur something to the distraught man but the guy clearly wasn't listening.

Not wanting to stress the man out more than he already was, Dean went back to him.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a kindly tone.

"Wh-where's Dad?" the man asked and Dean's mouth gaped open.

"Sam?" Caleb said, "Do you remember what happened to you?"

"Dean," Sam said forcefully, "Where's Dad?"

"Was your father here with you?" Caleb tried, thinking that the young man was confused.

Dean heard Sam give a breathy sigh that turned into a hacking cough. Caleb rubbed the man's back roughly until the fit passed and Sam looked up at Dean with red-rimmed eyes.

"I'm Sam," he said, "Sam Winchester."

Dean took a step back, "No."

This wasn't right. This wasn't Sam. This wasn't his baby brother. The guy was just delusional.

Caleb swore quietly when Sam faltered and he helped the young man sit back down; his energy depleted.

"What's going on?" Bobby stepped over to the two younger hunters, leaving Tanner and Gordon.

"He… he says he's Sam," Dean muttered.

"What?" Bobby asked incredulously.

"Bobby," Sam whispered, "Bobby Singer."

The grizzled hunter's eyebrows rose in astonishment. He didn't think anyone had called him by his last name since he'd come down here. How did that fellow know his name? Unless...

Dean watched Bobby approach Sam, squinting at the young man's face.

"If yer Sam Winchester," he said, "What kind of car does Dean drive?"

"A… Chevy… 67' Impala," the young man answered.

Dean's eyes bugged out of his head.

He knew about his baby. Maybe he really was Sammy. But if that was true and it was his brother sitting on the stairs before him than that meant… oh God… had he been here the entire time?

Dean felt bile rise in his throat even as tears welled up in his eyes. This was unbelievable.

"S-Sammy," Dean whispered, swallowing thickly.

The young man nodded his head once, the ghost of a smile forming on his lips.

Dean took a closer look at the young man and felt like crying, happy and sad at the same time.

He felt deeply ashamed that he had not recognized his brother from the start.

"I'm s-sorry, Sammy," Dean apologized and sat down beside him, carefully wrapping his arms around his brother.

"Y-you're here now," Sam breathed and went limp.

For a second, Dean panicked.

"Sam?!" Dean said his brother's name fearfully and felt Bobby's hand on his shoulder.

"He's alright Dean," the grizzled hunter assured him, "He's just drained."

Dean pulled back and realized that his brother was still breathing although his eyes were closed.

"Sorry to interrupt this family reunion," Gordon drawled, "But we still need to clean the mess we made upstairs."

"I can take these people to a hospital," Tanner spoke up, "And deal with the vamps."

"Thanks," Bobby said and helped Dean and Caleb carefully pick Sam up, marvelling at how little the young man seemed to weigh.

Gordon and Tanner headed upstairs, the remaining prisoners following them.

The trio of hunters carried their burden up the stairs slowly, trying not to jostle Sam and injure him further. Once they reached the first floor, the light illuminated Sam's injuries. Dean saw that both of his brother's arms were covered in bite marks- both old and new- and cringed in sympathy.

Dean allowed Bobby to fish the Impala's keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and the grizzled hunter opened the trunk, grabbing a pile of blankets and putting them in the Chevy's backseat. As gently as possible, Dean and Caleb lowered Sam onto the blankets.

Manoeuvring Sam into a more comfortable position, Dean gasped when he caught sight of Sam's injured leg; the reason he was limping. The back of Sam's thigh, about halfway to his knee, was marred by an ugly scar. The scar tissue was thick and knotted, pink and white, and although it was clearly not recent, still looked like it would be painful.

"Dean? Son, you alright?" Bobby's voice jolted Dean into awareness and he glanced up, "Yer pale as a sheet. What happened? Is Sam okay?"

"Look," Dean whispered and pointed out the horrific injury.

Bobby swore out loud, his choice of phrase much coarser than his usually language.

"They hamstrung him," the grizzled hunter spat.

Dean gulped, "But… they didn't do that to anyone else."

Bobby scratched his head through the top of his baseball cap, "We'll have to ask Sam about it when he wakes up. Right now we just gotta get him home."

Dean nodded. He could ask Sam all the questions he wanted once his brother was far away from this place.

Climbing into the driver's seat, Dean glanced back at his unconscious brother, "Is he going to be alright back there?"

"He's going to have to be," Bobby answered from the passenger's seat, "We've got a long drive ahead of us."

Dean nodded and bit his lip, hoping that Sam would be able to take the almost eighteen hour ride back to Sioux Falls.

"I have a friend in Rapid City who owes me one," Bobby commented as they passed Tanner and Gordon, coaching the victims on what to say to the police and doctors that wouldn't sound completely insane. Caleb was already at his truck, ready to help transport the seven survivors to the nearest hospital.

"She has a private clinic that was being haunted by a poltergeist a few years ago," Bobby continued, "She told me I could come in anytime for care free of charge."

Okay then, Dean thought as he waved goodbye to his fellow hunters- Gordon not returning the gesture- so Sam has to make it through a fourteen hour ride.

SPN

Felicity sniffed the air experimentally. There was the strong scent of fire on the warm, dry breeze. She accelerated the motorcycle and gravel spit out from underneath its twin wheels. She was glad to be home.

Although she always enjoyed visiting Luther and his nest, she always missed her mate. There certainly was no place like home.

The night was clear; the dark sky dotted with diamond-bright stars. Felicity smiled. She loved travelling by night. Even though the sun would not cause a vampire to burst into flames or turn to dust like in the movies or in books, it still burned their skin badly and was to be avoided as much as possible.

Coming over the rise of the hill, Felicity gasped and slammed on the brakes. The Tranquility Motel was gone, nothing more than charred remains.

"No," she whispered and sped down towards her home.

It was clear the the fire department and police had been on scene but now they were long gone. The parking lot was deserted.

Climbing down from her motorcycle, Felicity took off her helmet and stared wide-eyed at the carnage laid out before her.

Heedless of the smouldering ruins, she stepped lightly into the rubble, ash billowing out around her ankles as she walked.

Had her family fled? If so, where were they now?

Sniffing daintily at the air, Felicity caught the coppery tang of blood, but not human blood.

Hissing in anger, Felicity turned around, surveying the area. The second floor had collapsed, only the metallic bits remaining- doorknobs, taps from bathtubs and sinks- to glitter dully in the moonlight.

Hunters. Hunters had found her family and murdered them.

The vampire let out a cry of sadness and rage. Everyone was gone. There weren't even bodies left.

Who? Who would do such a thing? Felicity wondered, seeing red.

She would find out who had killed her mate and the rest of her family and make them suffer.

Crouching down, Felicity breathed in deeply, trying to catch a scent.

She discovered five distinct human smells that didn't come from any of the prisoners. Felicity closed her eyes, committing each unique aroma to memory.

Opening her eyes again, the vampire recognized the scent of her boy, the one only she was allowed to touch, mixed in with three of the new scents. Following the trail, Felicity walked out into the parking lot as the three hunter's scents became two and disappeared as they had driven away. The other hunters had taken the majority of prisoners with them.

Why not her boy? Felicity wondered, tapping one shapely finger against her chin.

She recalled looking through the young man's duffel bag the day they had caught him, taking anything of value. She had peered at his passport and driver's license, examining his picture and knew she had read his name as well.

But what was it?

It had been so long ago and Felicity- nor any of the other vampires- bothered calling their food by their names. Only once the prisoner was turned, would the rest of the family bother with actually learning his or her name. In an odd way it symbolized a sort of rebirth. The prisoner was unknown until they became a member of the nest and earned the right to have their name given back to them. Would someone name a pig or cow that they were ultimately going to lead to the slaughter? No.

What was the boy's name?

Felicity had a feeling it has started with an 'S'. She paced around the parking lot, the desire to recall the name even greater than her grief.

"Samuel!" she exclaimed, "An old name."

His surname was troubling though, she knew it had been unusual, something not heard everyday.

Closing her eyes, Felicity picture the young man.

Samuel… Samuel…

Winchester. That was it. Samuel Winchester. The son of the infamous John Winchester, how could she forget?

Felicity grinned toothily.

She would follow Samuel Winchester's scent and make his rescuers wish he had never found him at all.


	8. Chapter Eight

Sam didn't wake up once during the drive to Rapid City. Dean's worry grew the longer Sam remained unconscious.

"Why's he still sleeping, Bobby? Do you think he's going to be okay?" he asked as they crossed into the city limits.

"Take the offramp here," the grizzled hunter grunted, "He's practically skin and bone, Dean. And he's been a vampire chew-toy for God knows how long. Sleep is the best thing for him right now. At least until we can get him to the clinic."

Dean nodded. Of course. It just scared him to see Sam so still. The moment he'd found out that his brother had never arrived at his destination- Stanford University- all Dean could think about were worst case scenarios. His imagination had been so busy showing him pictures of his brother's battered corpse lying in a ditch at the side of the road like so much garbage, that now that he knew Sam was alive, he still couldn't help but thinking that he was going to lose him.

"Follow this road," Bobby spoke up, startling Dean from his morbid thoughts, "I'll let you know when to turn."

Dean glanced at his prone brother in the rearview mirror before returning his attention to his driving.

Bobby had called Tanner and Caleb to check up on how they were getting along with the other survivors. The hunters had taken the victims to Reno- only a four hour or so drive from Elko- and had them checked into a hospital there. The story of a cult kept the authorities satisfied and prevented the victims' next stop being the psych ward. Gordon had remained at the Tranquility Motel to clean up the bodies.

"Keep goin' down this road," Bobby said now, sitting up a little straighter in his seat as they approached their destination. He had called his doctor friend an hour ago, telling her to be ready for their arrival.

The dirt road that Dean was now driving on had neatly trimmed trees on either side, creating a green canopy over the Impala. Although gravel crunched under the classic Chevy's tires, not flew up to ping off the undercarriage or ding the paint on the sides.

Dean stepped on the brake when the car rounded a curve and he saw an old wrought-iron gate separating the road from the entrance to the clinic.

"What's the matter?" Bobby asked, jerking forward when the car suddenly stopped.

"Uh… a squirrel ran in front of the car," Dean muttered and continued driving. Bobby glanced suspiciously at the younger man but said nothing.

They passed the front gates and Dean couldn't help but stare at the Victorian-style mansion that greeted them.

"I thought you said we were going to a clinic," Dean commented, "Not the house on Haunted Hill."

Bobby rolled his eyes, "Louise inherited this place from her grandmother and she turned it into a clinic."

Dean looked skeptical but nodded. He didn't care if this Louise person's clinic was functioning out of the back of a van, as long as she could help Sam.

The road went from being comprised of dirt and gravel to being paved with cobblestones- dark brown and cracked but clearly maintained otherwise because there was not a weed to be found poking up between the imperfections in the stone- and curved around the front of the mansion in a half-moon shape. A fountain sat in the bell of the curving driveway; the copper figure of a maiden endlessly pouring water from a bucket stood on a pedestal above the fountain's circular base. Dean stared towards the mansion itself and saw a half-dozen wide concrete steps led up to the stained-wood front doors. Twin ovular panels of frosted glass- the height of a man- were set into the doors and Dean could see a warm glow beaming diffuse light from each pane.

"We're going around back," Bobby's voice startled Dean and he nodded, following the new asphalt service road that ran along the side of the mansion.

As he followed Bobby's instructions, Dean couldn't help but look at his brother's prone form in the backseat once again, wondering if they should wake him up.

"Keep yer eyes on the road!" Bobby exclaimed, grabbing the Impala's steering wheel to prevent the car from driving onto the lawn.

"Sorry," Dean muttered and tore his attention away from his brother. Bobby glared at him for a moment before shaking his head.

The rear of the mansion had been converted into an employee parking lot. A large black square of asphalt covered what used to be the back garden. Dean pulled up as close to the doors as possible. He barely noticed when the doors opened and a woman with grey hair and a young man around his brother's age stepped out to meet them. Bobby got out of the Impala and went to greet them. Dean remained where he was. He unbuckled himself and turned around in his seat to look again at Sam's unconscious form. Carefully, Dean reached out towards Sam, his hand coming to rest against his sibling's chest. Dean didn't say anything. He just waited as he felt his brother breathe in and out.

Jumping slightly when Bobby opened the driver's side door, Dean turned to face Bobby.

"Son, this is Louise Guthrie," the grizzled hunter pointed to the woman standing beside him, "And her boy, Jason."

"Hello Dean," the woman greeted. She still hadn't seen Sam yet.

"I don't think Sammy's going to wake up anytime soon," Dean said apologetically, feeling guilty.

Louise nodded and told her son to get a stretcher from inside the house.

Dean got out of the front seat and opened the passenger door, blocking Sam from view.

"Son," Bobby called and laid a calloused hand on Dean's shoulder, "Let Louise have a look at him."

Dean glared at the older hunter for a moment before acquiescing and stepping out of the way. Louise came forward and put her hands to her mouth in shock.

"What happened to him?" she asked, her eyes wide with shock. Dean looked over the woman's shoulder and although Sam's injuries were not wholly visible yet, it was clear that his brother was extremely thin, his hair was tangled and dirty, his beard making him look like some homeless man.

"Ran amuck of a nest o' vampires," Bobby answered and Louise gasped.

"I thought Bobby told you about the supernatural," Dean said and shouldered the woman out of the way, rather rudely.

"O-Only ghosts," Louise answered, her tone shocked.

Dean glanced at Bobby and the older man shrugged.

"Ah, here's Jason," the grizzled hunter exclaimed as the young man appeared, pushing a stretcher ahead of him.

Bobby and Louise stood back as Dean reluctantly allowed Jason to help him get Sam out of the back of the Impala and onto the gurney. Jason, short but built compactly, listened to Dean's directions and followed them exactly.

Sam looked even more pale against the starched white hospital linens on the stretcher and Dean frowned. He grabbed Sam's hand and walked alongside his brother as Jason easily- too easily- pushed the gurney towards the doors.

Dean barely looked at his surroundings- his gaze fixed on his brother's drawn face- as Jason pushed the stretcher down the halls of the mansion.

"Sammy?" Dean called to his brother, "Sam, wake up man. Please."

Sam continued to sleep.

Jason looked at Dean sympathetically and turned the gurney into a room.

"Can you help me get him onto the bed?" As though Jason had to ask. Dean grabbed his brother under his arms while Jason took his legs. Working together, the young two young men transferred Sam onto the hospital bed.

Louise bustled into the room, making a bee-line right for Sam. She put on a stethoscope and placed the diaphragm against Sam's chest. Dean frowned, knowing that at any moment he would be asked to leave the room.

To his surprise though, Louise only spoke to her son.

"Is Sammy going to be okay?" Dean asked, worriedly. Sam was so thin and pale, so sick looking, that Dean was afraid they'd found him too late.

"I'm starting him on IV fluid," Louise explained, "He's dehydrated."

Dean nodded, "Okay."

"I'm also going to take a better look at these wounds," she continued, indicating the bites on Sam's arms.

"His leg…" Dean managed to choke out, thinking of the ugly injury on Sam's thigh.

Louise nodded, her lips pursed.

"Why don't you go down to the kitchen and get a cup of coffee and something to eat? On this floor, at the end of the hall and to the right," she suggested, sounding genuinely concerned for Dean's wellbeing as she was for Sam's.

Dean jumped when he felt a hand on his arm and turned to see Bobby peering at him.

"C'mon son," the older hunter murmured, "Sam's in good hands."

Dean was reluctant to leave his brother- it had been so long since he'd seen Sam- that he didn't want to take his eyes off him for a moment.

"Let Louise do her work," Bobby pressed and guided Dean out the door.

Sighing, Dean followed the older man down the hallway towards the kitchen. As they walked, Dean took in his surroundings. The floors were hardwood with a long red carpet running down the length of the corridor. The walls were covered in antique floral-print wallpaper. Instead of overhead lights, old-fashioned sconces provided illumination.

Bobby pushed open a wooden door on the right just as they got to the end of the hall and ushered Dean into the kitchen. The room was a mixture of modern and antique. The floor was black slate, the cupboards a stained oak. The counters and the top of the island were black-and white-speckled granite. Both the double-door refrigerator and dishwasher were stainless steel.

Dean sat down at the island and put his head in his hands while Bobby prepared the coffee maker.

"What's eating you?" Bobby asked as he sat down across from the younger man. Dean didn't look up, his gaze fixed on the granite island-top.

"I should have known he was gone, Bobby," Dean murmured, "I should have checked in on him."

Bobby sighed, "Well, you didn't."

Dean glared at the granite angrily, "Do you think Sam was really there… the whole time?"

"I don't know," the grizzled hunter admitted, "You'll have to ask him when he wakes up."

Dean nodded, then, "He's going to wake up, right? We weren't too late, were we?"

"Sam's strong," Bobby assured Dean, "He's just been through a hell of a lot and needs time to recover."

Dean sucked in a shaky breath, "I didn't recognize him… I didn't know it was him… he tried to tell me and I… I thought he was crazy or something…"

Bobby rolled his eyes and stood as the coffee maker finished percolating.

"Don't go beating yourself up about that, Dean," he said as he pulled a couple of mugs down from the cupboards as though he owned the place, "I didn't know it was Sam either."

Dean didn't feel much better. He should have been able to recognize his own damn brother!

"Here," Bobby shoved a mug of black coffee at him, "Drink this and shut up."

Dean lifted his head and scowled but did as Bobby told him. After nearly ten long minutes of silence, Dean spoke up.

"So, uh, this place is pretty Ritzy, eh?" Dean muttered and Bobby chuckled.

Before the older hunter could say anything, the kitchen door opened and Jason stepped inside, "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Nope," Bobby rumbled even though Dean would have liked to be left alone. The young man nodded and grabbed himself a cup of coffee before sitting on Bobby's other side.

The three men fell into silence, Dean feeling slightly awkward.

"What's your Mom's story?" Jason looked surprised Dean had spoken.

He shrugged, "She got this place when my grandmother passed. We started fixing it up but all this weird shit started happening… we'd open the front doors in the morning and the paint cans would be open… paint everywhere… tools went missing… no contractor wanted to work on the house after awhile."

"Than Bobby showed up," Dean smiled. Jason shook his head.

"No. Dad thought it was some teens or a bum or something so one night… he decided to stay here and catch whomever was doing this in the act…"

Dean frowned. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

"The next morning, Mom and I came to check up on Dad… We found him… This is only the first floor but there's this spiral staircase with a chandelier in the entrance and, well… that's where we found him… Dad had somehow gotten up to the chandelier and hung himself… at least that's what we thought at first."

"I'm sorry," Dean murmured.

"It was a long time ago… I was only a kid," Jason shrugged but Dean could tell by the younger man's expression that it still hurt.

"The activity didn't stop… it got worse after Dad died," the young man continued, "And then one day the poltergeist tried to kill me."

Dean listened as Jason described how a young woman in Victorian-era clothing had appeared to him while he was playing on the spiral staircase in the house and had encouraged him to climb up onto the railing. The poltergeist moved a rope that had been used to hold scaffolding for the painters, towards the young boy and wrap around his neck, the other end attaching as if by magic to the chandelier in the middle of the ceiling.

"There'd be no possible way I was tall enough to reach that thing by myself," Jason muttered and shuddered at the memory, "No way Dad could have reached it either."

"Anyway, it was around lunchtime and I guess Mom had been calling me for a while," he continued, "And she found me like that. The noose around my neck, standing balanced on the railing. The ghost was holding me up, getting ready to shove me I guess… but then Mom screamed and the ghost vanished. Lucky for me I fell backwards and hit the stairs. I didn't choke to death."

Bobby stood up and took Dean's empty coffee cup, filling it again.

"But that was when we knew it wasn't some prank or anything," Jason told Dean, "Mom had seen her too."

"I read about his father's death in the paper and thought it sounded fishy," Bobby jumped in, "They described the reason Richard had been in the house… the destroyed and missing tools and such…"

"Turns out Grandma had had a sister who was jealous of her," Jason finished, "She was angry at my grandmother because the family disowned her and she would receive nothing when her parents died. She was killed in an accident here on the grounds of the house and never left."

Dean frowned, "Why didn't she attack your grandmother then?"

"Oh, Grandma never stayed here. After her parents died, she had the house locked up and moved into the city."

Dean nodded, "So the ghost only became active once your Mom opened this place up again. Must have been angry that her grandniece got this place."

Gulping down a mouthful of coffee, Dean frowned.

"Why'd your Mom decide to turn this place into a clinic? I mean, after what happened to your Dad…"

Jason shrugged, "She didn't want the bad memories to… infect this place. It really is a cool house and everything. Mom didn't want to work in hospitals anymore… said she couldn't take the sterile environment and wanted to have a place that people could come to that didn't feel so institutional."

"Its definitely not like any hospital I've ever been to," Dean commented and Jason smiled.

W

An hour later the kitchen door opened again and Louise stepped inside. Dean and Bobby looked up expectantly.

"Can we see Sam now?" the older brother asked and the doctor nodded.

"How is he?" Bobby asked, moving nearly as quickly as Dean as the younger man practically shot out of his seat as soon as Louise had indicated permission.

"He's still resting," she said as they walked down the hall; Dean trying his hardest not to run ahead of everyone.

"But he'll be okay, right? Right?" Dean asked urgently, praying for good news.

"Your brother is very weak," Louise said gravely, "He has lost a lot of blood."

Dean felt his hope shrink. They were too late. Sam was too sick. He wasn't going to make it.

Louise opened the door to Sam's room and Dean was immediately at his brother's side. During the intervening hour and a half Dean had been away from him, Sam had been changed out of his old clothes and into the conventional hospital gown. He had one IV line in the back of his left hand providing him much needed nutrients, another in his wrist giving him blood. A heart monitor, with its sensors attached to Sam's chest, pinged steadily.

Sam still looked pale and fragile.

"S-Sammy," Dean murmured and reached out a hand to touch his brother, pausing before he could do so and turned to look at Louise.

"I heard a crackle in your brother's lungs and put him on a broad-spectrum antibiotic," she said, "I'm worried its pneumonia. I sent some a sample out for testing."

Dean's heartbeat increased with fear.

"Wh-what about Sam's leg? Can you fix it?"

Louise looked crestfallen, "I'm afraid there's nothing I could do. The injury is too old to repair the damage."

Dean paled visibly. Bobby rushed forward and guided him to a chair set out for visitors- dark carved wood and red cushions- before glancing concernedly at the doctor.

"Sam's going to be lame for the rest of his life?" the grizzled hunter asked, sharing Dean's fear.

"Hopefully with physical therapy, your brother will be able to walk properly again," Louise told the hunters, trying to find something positive in all of this.

Dean though, didn't share the doctor's optimism.

All he could think of was how his brother's life was ruined because he hadn't thought to check up on Sam.

I'm a terrible brother. Sam must hate me. I'd hate me.

Dean reached out and finally touched his brother, laying his hand on top of Sam's.

"I'll leave you alone now," Louise told Dean and Bobby quietly, "Let me know if Sam's condition changes."

The grizzled hunter nodded. Dean didn't look up. Louise closed the door as she walked out of the room.

"It's gonna be alright, son," Bobby murmured and clapped a hand on Dean's shoulder.

The younger hunter turned red-rimmed eyes upwards and Bobby grimaced, wishing he could say something more.

All they could do was wait until Sam woke up.

SPN

Felicity allowed her grief to overflow once she reached Luther's nest in Manning, Colorado. Although the drive was out of the way, she needed to let her oldest friend know what had happened to her family. Trying to hold back her cries of anguish, Felicity told the others what had happened in Elko. Kate- Luther's mate- hugged Felicity comfortingly as she struggled to pull herself together.

"Let us help you!" Kate exclaimed, "I don't know what I'd do without Luther. Those hunters have to pay for what they did to your family."

Felicity smiled sadly, "I don't know, honey. They managed to kill everyone. I wouldn't want to put you in danger."

"You said they split up though," Luther added thoughtfully.

Felicity nodded, "Three went in the direction of Reno while two took the boy east."

Luther's expression turned smug, "Two hunters. That's nothing, Felicity. Especially if they're not expecting us."

The vampire smiled gratefully.

Although Kate and Luther didn't understand Felicity's fascination with this boy she kept talking about, they were more than happy to help get revenge for the death of her nest. Because of hunters, their kind was nearly wiped out completely and any chance to get back at them was a win.

Ideas were proposed and plans laid out. Soon Felicity and a half-dozen members of Luther's nest were on the road, Rapid City as their destination.

SPN

"I'm sorry, Sammy," Dean murmured to his brother, "I thought… I didn't know… Damn it! I would have looked for you if I'd known."

Sam remained asleep. Only the heart monitor answered Dean.

Sighing, Dean squeezed his brother's thin hand and sat back in his chair. Bobby stood on the other side of the bed, frowning down at the young man who continued to sleep.

"It wasn't your fault you know," the grizzled hunter said.

Dean shook his head, "I should have been there for him… that night. Instead I just stood there listening to Dad ream him and then Sam left… I didn't even tell him goodbye or good luck. I didn't trust myself to say anything."

The older brother gave a bitter chuckle, "I was so angry at Sam. Almost as angry as Dad at first… but it got better. That doesn't excuse me. I shouldn't have let Sam go out alone. I could have driven him to school. It was my job to take care of him and I didn't do that. I let him leave an get caught by vampires."

Bobby took off his baseball cap and scratched his head, "You couldn't have known, Dean."

Dean sighed. Even after his anger had waned and he had begun to realize that maybe school was the best thing for Sam- at least he didn't have to listen to his little brother and their father argue anymore- he still had failed in his job to look out for him. Sure, Dean thought he was giving Sam his privacy and all that shit, it wouldn't have killed him to pick up the phone and see how Sam was doing.

Bobby sighed. He couldn't bear to see Dean beat himself up like this. Sure, Dean hadn't called or checked up on Sam but the kid wasn't exactly a child anymore. He had been ready to go to the other end of the country for school. What would have Dean done if Sam had received his higher education and got himself an apple pie job and apple pie life? Bobby knew that Dean would probably have called Sam every day to make sure his brother was still breathing. Bobby knew that Sam was very independent, had been since he'd first met the boy, and he might have spurned Dean's attempts to look after him. Bobby had the distinct idea that Sam didn't need Dean as much as Dean needed Sam. Or at least, Sam might have thought he didn't need Dean, Bobby corrected as he watched the older brother brush the sleeping young man's bangs away from his eyes and murmur comfortingly.

Should have, could have, would have…

Bobby was as much to blame for not realizing Sam was in danger as Dean was. John had nearly talked his ear off after Sam left, venting his anger and frustration to the grizzled hunter. Bobby knew Sam was supposed to be at school but he had never bothered to call the youngest Winchester either.

"What matters is that you're here for Sam now," Bobby told Dean, "So you can start making up for four years of neglect."

The older brother didn't smile, Bobby's attempt at dark humour falling flat.

"I just wish he'd wake up," Dean said quietly.

Bobby nodded. He knew how the younger man felt. It felt like the longer Sam stayed oblivious to the world, the less likely he was to ever open his eyes again. Although Bobby had assured Dean that his brother would be okay after some much needed medical attention, the grizzled hunter wasn't so sure of that himself. Sam was receiving blood, which would help him immensely but the suspicious crackling in his lungs- pneumonia, Louise thought- was troubling. Men and woman a lot healthier than Sam died from pneumonia.

Bobby glanced down at Sam as he thought. The young man's long hair was dirty and tangled, his face all sharp edges and hollows. Sam's arms rested on either side of his body, wrapped in clean white bandages from wrist to elbow. From where Bobby was standing he could see an old scar on Sam's neck, a bite mark that stood out starkly against the pale skin.

If Sam had indeed been the vampires' prisoner for as long as he thought, it was new to Bobby. Vampires usually only kept their victims a few days- maybe a week- at the most before draining them dry and moving on to fresher prey. Bobby had never heard of the monsters stock-piling humans for food. Both curious and disturbed by the idea, Bobby hoped that Sam could tell them more about what had happened if- when- he woke up.

Bobby told chastised himself for being so damn negative.

Sam was strong and stubborn- always had been- and he sure as hell wasn't going to just slip away without getting the chance to tell his brother off for all Dean's mothering.

SPN

Deanstartled when his fingers brushed against Sam's brow and felt a frightening amount of heat pouring off his brother's skin.

"Bobby!" Dean nearly shouted at the old hunter sitting on the other side of the bed, reading a magazine, "Get Louise! Sam's got a fever!"

The veteran hunter didn't even bother nodding, he simply dropped the magazine and ran from the room.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean murmured, placing his palm on his brother's forehead, "It's going to be alright."

Minutes later Louise rushed into the room, followed by Bobby and Jason. The doctor checked the heart monitor and then pulled an ear thermometer out.

"Hm," she murmured, as the device beeped, its reading finished, "Its quite high. Strange..."

"What's strange? How bad is it?" Dean asked urgently, feeling useless.

"I checked Sam's temperature when he came in but he didn't have a fever then," Louise explained, "This is good, Dean."

"How is a fever good?!" Dean exclaimed, glaring at the woman.

"It means that Sam's getting stronger," the doctor continued, "Before, his body was too weak to even increase its temperature."

Dean blinked in confusion.

"A fever is a body's way of trying to destroy whatever's causing illness," Jason repeated in laymen's terms, "The blood and nutrients Mom is giving Sam are giving him a boost of energy he didn't have before."

Louise nodded, "We should still try and break this, with Sam as weak as he is, a fever will be as harmful as it is helpful."

Dean watched as the doctor left the room, only to return with a syringe and insert the needle into Sam's IV line, depressing the liquid into the nutrients his brother was also receiving.

"Either Jason or I will come and check on Sam every half-hour to make sure his fever is still down," Louise told Dean and Bobby, tossing the empty needle in a yellow bucket by the door marked 'Biohazard Waste'.

Dean sat back down and peered concernedly at his brother. He was glad Sam was getting stronger- maybe that meant he'd wake up soon- but he was still worried. Now he had a fever to complicate things even more.

Dean frowned at the sweat beaded on his brother's pale brow and asked Bobby if he could find a cloth or something. The grizzled hunter came back a few minutes later, following a nurse into the room. Dean was slightly startled by the young woman's appearance- he had only thought Louise and Jason were here- and then he kicked himself for his stupidity. This place might look like a mansion but it was a hospital.

The nurse had a bowl of water and a white cloth in her hands, which Dean took gratefully.

"Let me know if you need anything else," she said and Dean nodded, setting the bowl on the bedside table and wringing out the cloth to place it on Sam's brow.

The nurse left and Dean raised an eyebrow at Bobby, "I'll say it again. This isn't like any hospital I've ever been to before."

The grizzled hunter chuckled and sat back down, "Louise usually doesn't take people with serious injuries or illnesses; those poor souls do belong in public hospitals. Normally this place sees patients recovering from their stays in regular hospitals."

Dean nodded. That made sense. It was only Louise and her son, plus a few other employees.

"They certainly give people their privacy," Dean commented, grateful not to have medical staff hovering over him and his brother.

Again, Bobby laughed, opening his magazine back up to continue reading.

SPN

Hours passed and still Sam remained unconscious. Louise did not seem too concerned though, stating that this rest was the best thing for Sam. It allowed his body time to rest and recover from its trauma.

Bobby tried to be optimistic as well but Dean was clearly frightened.

As night fell, the grizzled hunter somehow- it was an honest to God miracle- convinced Dean to leave his brother's side and take one of the visitor's rooms on the second floor of the mansion. Bobby himself took the room beside Dean's and climbed into bed, closing his eyes and hoping that the next day, the youngest Winchester would be opening his.

SPN

Dean sat on the made-up bed and stared around the visitor's room- specially set aside for the family members of patients- and dug his phone out of the pocket of his jacket. Dean knew it was a long-shot… a really long-shot but he scrolled down his contact list and hit the button that would connect him with his father's cell.

As expected- why would John pick up now- the voicemail came on and Dean sighed.

"We… we found Sammy," Dean choked out, "But he's… he's been hurt… Bobby and I are in Rapid City with him…"

Dean rattled off the address of the mansion before finishing, "If you get this message, you should come and see him… Sam, I mean…"

He closed his phone and fell back against the mattress of the four-post bed. Still holding his phone, Dean placed his arm across his eyes to block out the light. Sighing deeply, Dean closed his eyes and was asleep within moments.

SPN

Felicity smiled as she looked up at the green sign announcing she had arrived at Rapid City. She wasn't far now. The wind whipped through her blonde hair and she smiled, the convertible much faster than her motorcycle. And the driver hadn't tasted too bad at all. Soon she would find the hunters who had murdered her family and make them pay for their crime. Saliva flooded her mouth and her fangs slipped down in anticipation.

SPN

Sam woke slowly, groggy. His entire body ached but he couldn't remember why. He felt someone stroking his hair and his heart skipped a beat fearfully.

Dean. Sam remembered Dean and Bobby. They had found him. They had rescued him.

Sam smiled slightly and opened his eyes, looking up.

Felicity grinned, peering down at him, her fangs showing.

Sam gasped in shock and tried to back away from the vampire but he was too weak and collapsed against the mattress.

Before Sam could cry out, the vampire grabbed the cloth Dean had been using earlier from the bowl on the nightstand and stuffed it into his mouth. Felicity reached down and grabbed his shoulders, shoving him down onto the bed and pinning him. Eyes wide with fear, Sam saw that Felicity was not the only monster in the room. Two large male vampires Sam didn't recognize stood beside the bed as well.

"Otis," Felicity said to the vampire with a bright blond crew cut, "Get the IVs."

Sam cried out- the sound muffled- as the vampire named Otis ripped the IV lines free. Felicity and the second male vampire heaved Sam into a sitting position. Sam groaned as the room seemed to spin around him and he closed his eyes, certain he was going to pass out.

Suddenly, Sam was on his feet, his lame leg barely holding his weight. Felicity and Otis held Sam's arms tight to his body, the third vampire walking ahead of them.

Sam struggled weakly as he was dragged from the room and down the hall. The corridor wasn't completely dark but the wall sconces had been turned down so that they gave off dim orange glow, casting long shadows.

No, no, no, Sam begged, please leave me alone. Let me go!

"D'n!" Sam tried to call out to his brother but the name came out quiet and distorted because of the gag.

The vampire stalking ahead of them pushed the door to the employees' parking lot open and stepped outside, holding the door open from Felicity and Otis.

The wind was cold as it buffeted into Sam, the young man only wearing a hospital gown, and he shivered.

Felicity reached up with her free hand and ran her fingers through Sam's hair.

"Don't worry," she cooed, "Your friends will find you soon."

They stopped in front of a rag-top with its hood up, three more vampires greeting them.

"Is this him?" the only other female vampire asked, taking in Sam with a critical eye.

Felicity nodded and patted Sam's head, "I know he doesn't look like much."

One of the male vampires unlocked the convertible's trunk and Felicity and Otis pushed Sam towards it.

"No," Sam managed to say from around the gag, "Plea…"

Felicity sighed as though in good-natured exasperation, "You'll be fine."

With little problem, Felicity and Otis shoved Sam into the trunk and slammed the lid closed.

The vampire turned to Luther when he touched her shoulder, "Are you sure this is going to work?"

Felicity smiled, "I'm positive."


	9. Chapter Nine

Dean was awoken by frantic knocking on the door to his room. For a moment he didn't know what was happening but then the events of the past two days came back to him in a rush- the meeting with Tanner, his solo drive to the Tranquility Motel, killing the vampires and Sam's rescue- and Dean leaped from the bed.

Yanking the door open, he stared into wild-eyed face of the nurse who he had met the day before.

"Your bother's gone!" she exclaimed, wringing her hands, clearly confused and more than a little frightened.

"What?!" Dean asked, immediately alert, "What do you mean Sammy's gone?"

"I went to check on him and his room was empty," the nurse, Melody, explained.

Dean pushed past her and started down the hallway. How the hell could they lose Sam? He wasn't even conscious when Dean had left him!

"Get Bobby," he told the young woman without even turning to look at her.

Melody, unseen by Dean who was nearly running down the corridor, nodded and hurried away from him to where the grizzled hunter was sleeping.

Dean couldn't think of any explanation for Sam's strange disappearance. Even if he had woken up he was clearly too weak to go anywhere. He could barely stand on his own two feet when Dean had seen him in the vampire's nest.

The concerned- and confused- older brother stomped down the stairs to the first floor of the mansion, swearing under his breath, cursing himself for not demanding to stay with his brother despite his friend's protests that he needed to get some rest.

"I could have just slept in a Goddamn chair," Dean muttered angrily to himself, "I've done it before."

He tore down the corridor, his way illuminated by the soft glow of the wall sconces and almost flung himself into his brother's room.

It was dark and Dean fumbled with the light-switch for a moment before he managed to find it.

The first thing Dean noticed was that the bedclothes were in disarray. Not wholly unusual; if Sam had gone in search of a bathroom- or his big brother- he wouldn't bother to make the bed up.

Moving further into the room, Dean's confusion and concern turned to fear. The heart monitor had been turned off- presumably by Melody- but he could see where the thin grey, plastic-covered cables that attached to the electrodes, hung limply down from the machine. The IV pole still stood beside the bed, the ends of the needles dripping fluid onto the floor.

"Dean! What in the hell hap-" Bobby exclaimed but stopped as soon as he saw the room, sans Sam.

The young man didn't move as the veteran hunter edged around him and scanned the hospital bed and equipment with a critical eye. He turned to glance at Melody who as standing in the doorway, still wringing her hands anxiously.

"Did you see anyone in the halls earlier?"

The nurse shook her head, "You are the only people here, besides Dr. Guthrie and her son."

Bobby narrowed his eyes. He stepped up beside the bed, pulled the top sheet down and squinted curiously at the blankets and pillow. Dean could see the nurse give the older man a confused look and he cleared his throat.

"Uh, Melody," he spoke up, "Can you go tell Louise what's happened?"

The nurse nodded and left the room.

"Hmm," Bobby scratched his chin for a moment before making the bed up as it was when they had entered the room.

"What?" Dean asked, approaching his friend.

"Yer younger'n me," Bobby said almost absentmindedly, "You mind checking the floor by the bed? Underneath it as well?"

"No," Dean answered, got down on his hands and knees, eyeing the floorboards.

"See anything?" Bobby's voice asked from over Dean's shoulder.

Now the younger man realized what his friend had been searching for- evidence of the supernatural- and shook his head, "Nothing but a couple of dust bunnies down here."

Dean stood and raked a hand through his short-cropped hair, gazing at Bobby imploringly.

"There's no sulphur or ectoplasm," the older man said, "And its clear Sam didn't walk out of here on his own…"

"What are you thinking?" Dean asked. He was exhausted and too panicked to think of much more than the fact that his baby brother- who he'd only just found again- was gone.

"This may be a long-shot," Bobby began, "But I think we missed some vamps back in Nevada."

Dean's mouth dropped open in shock, "What? How?"

Bobby shrugged, "Dunno. Usually vampires stay pretty close to their nests… especially in the daytime."

Dean's heart began to pound with real fear, "But… It could happen… I mean, anything could happen."

Bobby agreed, "A'course anything can happen, son. The supernatural doesn't really play by the rules now does it?"

Dean nodded and bit his lip.

He shouldn't have left Sam alone. Even though he had only been on the floor above, Dean felt he'd abandoned his brother for a second time.

Dean looked up when Louise Guthrie entered the room, "Are you alright? There's blood in the hall!"

"Blood!" Both hunters exclaimed at the same time and rushed past the bewildered doctor.

Oh God, Dean thought as his eyes darted across the wooden floor and green and grey runner.

"Bobby!" Dean grabbed his friend's shoulder and pointed to a small, dark spot on the golden-hued hardwood.

"I'll turn up the lights," Louise said but neither Bobby nor Dean was listening.

Staring at the floor, the two men crept along close to the wall, their eyes catching each minute spot, following the almost imperceptible trail down the corridor. The doctor walked after the hunters, her lips pursed in concern.

The drops of blood themselves were not troubling, there was certainly not enough to cause serious damage, but the fact that they led away from the room, towards the exit- the employees' parking lot- was of great unease.

Bobby pressed his hand against the bar across the door and pushed outwards. The parking lot was empty of any living presence. Dean stepped out and glanced around. He saw Melody and Louise's cars, the Impala, but that was all.

"How'd you see that blood?" he heard Bobby ask.

"I may not be as young as I used to be but my eyes are still sharp," Louise answered, "Besides, I know what blood looks like at night."

Dean shivered, not entirely sure why and stepped further into the parking lot. He didn't see anymore blood. The trail was cold.

"Damn it!"

About to turn away and head back inside, the soft flutter of paper caught Dean's attention. Nearly running towards the Impala, Dean grabbed the envelope stuck beneath one of the Chevy's windshield wipers.

"What've you got there, son?" Bobby asked, coming to stand beside Dean. Louise followed the grizzled hunter and Bobby slipped an arm around her shoulders.

Dean tore open the envelope and fished a small slip of paper from it:

We have the boy. Come to Manning, Colorado. Alone.

We shall see how this ends.

"They left a fucking note!" Dean swore and Bobby grabbed the paper from him.

"Was it the… the vampires?" Louise asked, her eyes wide with fear.

The grizzled hunter nodded, "Think so."

"We have to go, Bobby. Right now!" Dean took hold of his friend's wrist, "They've got Sam!"

"An' do what, Dean?" Bobby growled, startling the younger man, "We don't know how many there are. Its obvious they're setting a trap. All we'll end up doing is get ourselves killed."

A lump formed in Dean's throat even as anger simmered in his belly, "This is Sam! We can't just leave him!"

The veteran hunter's expression softened, "I know, son. Listen, we'll go but we need help."

"But they said 'alone'," Louise spoke up but the hunters once again acted as though she was not there.

"We'll get Sam back again, Dean," Bobby said quietly, "I promise you that."

The younger man nodded, blinking against the tears welling up in his eyes. He knew Bobby was right. They wouldn't be saving anyone- much less his brother- if they were dead.

Hang in there Sammy, Dean thought as he followed Bobby and Louise back inside the mansion-turned-hospital, we're coming for you.

SPN

The six hour drive to Manning was agonizing.

It seemed that Sam felt every pothole and imperfection in the road, the motions jarring his body painfully.

At first Sam had been wide awake; terror and adrenaline coursing through his veins. But as the car ate up the miles, the young man's already overtaxed body could not keep vigilant and Sam slipped in and out of consciousness.

W

Barely able to stop himself from passing out, Sam let out a whine as the car jumped when it hit a bump in the road. Sam was curled up, his body wracked with tremors. He was freezing and he wasn't completely sure it wasn't just from the temperature inside the trunk.

Sam blinked his eyes sluggishly, seeing only a suffocating, claustrophobic darkness. Not even the red taillights of the convertible added their glow to his temporary prison.

W

Sam was certain he was going to die now.

Why else would Felicity go to all the trouble of tracking him down and kidnapping him?

He just hoped that Dean and Bobby were alright and that the vampires hadn't hurt them.

Tears welled up in Sam's eyes and dripped down his cheeks onto the scratchy covering of the trunk. He wished he had had more time with his brother and friend.

It had been so good to see them again. He had felt happier upon seeing Dean's face than he had been in a long, long time.

Sam only wished that his father had been there as well. His time captive had given Sam many hours to think over the last time he'd seen his father and even thought they had both left angry at each other, Sam wanted to see his Dad once more.

The car took a sharp turn and the young man slide across the trunk, hitting the back of the compartment with a dull thud.

SPN

Felicity smiled when the old barn Luther's family was squatting in came into view.

Just in time too. The sun was beginning to rise, its golden rays just peeking over the horizon.

The vampire pulled the car up close to the back of the barn and shut off the engine. The two others riding with her- Otis and Cecil- got out of the car and walked to the trunk.

While Felicity exited the car, the two male vampires dragged the boy from the trunk. She smiled as she closed the door and came around to face Sam. He was barely standing, Otis and Cecil holding him up between them, the hospital gown he was wearing making him look incredibly vulnerable.

Felicity grabbed Sam's bangs and pulled his head up; his green eyes were emerald slits in an ash-grey face.

"Did you enjoy the ride, Love?"

She didn't expect an answer and didn't get one. Felicity released Sam and followed Kate and Luther inside. The two vampires trailing their prisoner along in her wake.

The barn was nice and fairly warm, it even had a string of halogen lamps handing from the ceiling. Although it was old, it had been well-maintained. The only evidence that it had ever been in use was the pervasive smell of chicken and horse shit.

The rest of Luther's nest greeted the returning band upon entrance into the building. Many of them peering curiously at the young man they had with them.

"Didn't expect you to bring us a souvenir," one young vampire crowed, his fangs dropping down over his human teeth.

Felicity hisses at him menacingly, eyes flashing dangerously.

Clearing his throat, Luther addressed the rest of his family, "This one is off-limits. He belongs to Felicity."

There were some mutinous grumbles but no one argued; Luther's word was final.

The lead vampire turned to Cecil and Otis, "You can put him in one of the stalls, I don't think he's going to try and escape anytime soon."

Felicity followed the two male vampires as they dragged Sam into an unused horse stall and dropped him unceremoniously onto a pile of mouldering straw.

Sprawled out on his back, the young man's barely open eyes slid shut as he appeared to lose consciousness.

Felicity leaned her forearms on the top of the stall's wooden half-door and watched Sam for a long moment. His breathing was slow and shallow. His face gaunt and had a sickly pallor. Blood had leaked down Sam's right arm from the jagged holes left when the IV needles had been ripped out. His long hair lay plastered against his skull with sweat.

"Felicity," the blonde vampire looked up when she heard Luther call her name, "We should go over your plan again."

Nodding in agreement, the female vampire tore her gaze away from Sam and followed her friend deeper into the barn.

W

Muted sunlight slanted through the wooden boards that made up the barn. Most of the vampires were asleep but for two women.

Felicity stood in front of the door to the stall were Sam lay, her eyes pinned on the injured young man.

Kate made her way over to her friend and peered over the stall door at the human.

"Seems a waste to kill him," she mused, one finely arched eyebrow raised.

Felicity shrugged, "He's served his purpose."

Upon her arrival at the barn, Luther had told Felicity that she was welcome to stay with him and his nest for as long as she wanted. With no nest of her own anymore- with her mate dead- Felicity had nowhere to go. She would take Luther's offer.

Unlike herself and her now defunct family, the vampires from Manning usually only kept their victims alive for a day or two. Although Felicity preferred her way of feeding, she would not argue with her friend. Although she still thirsted for Sam's blood, she knew she could not keep him. The feeding habits of Luther's family and their nomadic lifestyle made it impractical for them to keep victims.

Besides, Felicity- jealous as she was- did not trust some of Luther's family members to stay away from the young man. The smell of his blood was strong, even now, and the vampire had to steel herself against the urge to drink of it.

He had to live long enough to see his would-be rescuers die. The men who had murdered her family had to perish knowing they had failed saving their friend.

Kate's face softened and she smiled sadly, "He's kind of handsome. He's the son of a hunter, you said?"

Felicity nodded, "Yes, John Winchester's youngest son."

The other vampire's eyebrows rose in shock, "And you've had him for how long?"

"Four years," Felicity smiled smugly.

Kate's expression turned thoughtful.

"What?" Felicity asked.

"He doesn't have to die," the dark-haired vampire said slowly, as if she were speaking as a plan formed, "And you can still get your revenge."

"Keep going," the blonde vampire urged.

Kate smiled cruelly, her fangs slipping down in her excitement, "Turn him."

Felicity laughted. It was so perfect! How had she not thought of it herself?

Yes, being turned into a monster certainly was a worse fate than death; in a hunter's opinion.

"I like the way you think," Felicity said and Kate smiled, feigning humility.

The blonde-haired vampire opened the door and stepped into the stall. Kate remained where she was, watching with a look of excitement on her face.

Felicity knelt down by Sam's head. The young man stirred, his eyes opening slightly as his head rolled in her direction.

"Nuuuhhh," the protest came ever so quietly, breathed through barely parted lips, but the vampire ignored it.

Felicity raised her left wrist and dug the thumbnail of her right hand into the soft flesh, cutting deeply.

A crimson line appeared against the creamy skin and the vampire smiled. It had been a long time since she had turned anyone, usually it was Wycliffe's task to create new members for their family.

Lowering her arm, Felicity smiled almost lovingly at the human, blood beading along the self-inflicted slice, poised to drip any moment into the human's mouth.


	10. Chapter Ten

Bobby started making calls.

Dean and the veteran hunter stood in the kitchen of Louise Guthrie's hospital, trying to come up with a plan of attack. Following the rule laid out in the vampires' note was out of the question; to go into the Manning nest alone would be suicide, but that didn't mean the two men couldn't get help.

Bobby knew of an old vampire hunter who lived in Sidewinder, Colorado. The name Daniel Elkins sounded oddly familiar to Dean but he could not say exactly why. The now-elderly man was a professional when it came to the creatures of the night and although he did less hunting now and more mentoring, he willingly gave Bobby some advice on how to proceed.

Dean paced around the kitchen, wondering if he was ever going to see his little brother alive again.

This was all his fault. If he had stayed by Sam's side, his sibling might now be sleeping peacefully in his hospital bed.

Taking out his own cell phone as Bobby continued to speak with Elkins, Dean dialled his father's number.

"Dad… we have a problem… Sammy's gone… again," he said once he'd listened to the recording of John's voice tell him to leave a message, "It was the vampires… they took him… But… we know where they are… we're going to get Sam back… where are you?"

Dean's hazel eyes glazed with tears. He didn't know why his father wasn't answering his calls. He wanted his father there with him. John would help them rescue Sammy. Dean was sure he would.

Bobby ended his conversation with Elkins and turned to Dean, "I've got some good news for you, son."

Dean raised an eyebrow in curiosity, "Yeah?"

Maybe this Elkins fellow had a way of killing vamps that didn't involve decapitating them one at a time. He didn't want any of them to have the chance to hurt Sam while he and Bobby were distracted.

"Daniel saw your Daddy a few weeks ago."

The young man's mouth opened in shock. He was not expecting that.

"What? Dad was in Colorado?!"

Bobby nodded and Dean rubbed a hand down his face, relief flowing through him so suddenly that he had to sit down. His father was alright, still breathing at least.

"Did Elkins say why Dad was there?"

Bobby shook his head, "All he said was that John picked up something from him and that was all."

"Jesus," Dean sighed. If his father had been in Colorado only a couple of weeks ago than that meant he was checking his voice mail.

Bobby's lips thinned and his expression turned sympathetic.

"Why wouldn't he call me back?" Dean asked, knowing there was no way for Bobby to answer him.

"Why didn't he come to Elko with us?"

"I don't know, son," Bobby said quietly, "I'm sorry."

Gritting his teeth in frustration and anger, Dean raked a hand through his short-cropped hair. Standing once again, he turned his attention back to the problem at hand. He could deal with his father later.

"Is Elkins going to help us?"

Bobby scratched at his balding head, "He don't have nothing we don't already know about vamps. He did give me the addresses of some abandoned buildings and the like that might be good places for the bastards to hide out."

Dean nodded, "Okay."

"I'm gonna call up Caleb an' see if he wants to help us out with this… maybe Tanner as well."

Dean agreed with the idea. No way in hell were they going to go in alone. Even if only he and Bobby actually went inside, the other hunters could be back-up and cut down any monster that tried to flee.

"What about Gordon Walker?" Dean asked. Although he didn't like the man, Dean had to admit that he was one heck of a vampire slayer.

"No," Bobby said immediately, "I trust the man as far as I can throw him. He only came to the Tranquility 'cause Tanner asked him. I won't hunt with Walker if'n I can help it… don't know many others who will either."

W

Dean felt slightly better. Sitting in the driver's seat of the Impala with Bobby beside him and Caleb and Tanner following behind them, it seemed as though they had a chance of getting rid of the vampires of Elko, Nevada once and for all. Neither hunter liked leaving loose ends and Caleb was just as concerned about Sam as Dean was.

Dean gripped the classic Chevy's steering wheel with white knuckles. Manning, Colorado seemed as though it was a thousand miles away; Dean couldn't seem to drive fast enough. He wanted to get to his brother as fast as he could.

As though reading the young man's thoughts, Bobby spoke up, "We'll get him, Dean. Don't worry."

Dean's lips pressed into a thin, grim line. They could already be too late; Sam could be dead for all they knew, drained of blood and thrown away like so much garbage.

The hunter ground his teeth together; if those vampires had hurt his brother, they'd be begging him to chop off their heads once he was finished with them.

W

Dean swore as he exited the third deserted building Elkins had given Bobby the address for. With his machete over his shoulder, Dean trudged dejectedly back to the Impala, Bobby, Tanner and Caleb following in his wake.

"We'll find him, Dean," the second youngest hunter assured him, "We did the first time."

Dean smiled sadly at Caleb's attempt at boosting his confidence, "The Tranquility was a fluke."

The other hunter grimaced and stared up for a moment at the bright blue sky overhead, shielding his eyes with one hand, "At least the vamps will be resting now."

Dean sighed. So what if the vamps were taking a siesta? Sam could be dead by now.

The young man listened to Bobby and Tanner talking quietly behind him.

"Y'all are sure there wasn't an address on the note?"

"Like I said," Bobby grumbled, "All it said was come to Manning."

"Shee-it," Tanner muttered and unlocked his pickup truck once they reached the vehicles.

Dean climbed into the classic Chevy's driver's seat and gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles.

"We still got one more place on Elkins' list," Bobby informed Dean as he settled into the passenger's seat.

Dean nodded and bit his lip, steeling himself for the reality that very soon they would be finding only Sam's corpse.

W

The barn didn't look like the other buildings Daniel Elkins had suggested as likely hideouts for vampires. It looked almost brand-new or at least meticulously cared-for. It hadn't been easy to find either. Not exactly in the town limits of Manning, the barn and farmhouse had only appeared after nearly three hours of driving down twisting, turning backroads through Colorado wilderness.

The hunters parked in the entrance to the long, dirt driveway, and stepped out of their cars.

"You sure this is the place?" Caleb asked skeptically.

Bobby nodded, "Only farmhouse around here with a barn fresh off the assembly-line."

"Everyone remember the drill?" Dean asked, his machete pointed safely at the ground.

In the distance he could hear crickets chirruping and the occasional croaking call of a crow but other than that, the land around them was silent.

"Wanna bet they Old MacDonald an appetizer?" Caleb asked, a grin on his face.

Dean, not in the mood for joking, turned away from his friend with a roll of his eyes. He smirked when he heard Bobby call the other hunter an 'idjit' and follow right behind him.

Caleb and Tanner remained where they were before setting off once Dean and Bobby were closer to the barn. The vampires didn't know they had brought company and with any luck it would remain that way.

Dean didn't even give the farmhouse a second glance; according to Bobby, vampires tended toward the rustic. Dean guessed it made sense in a way, if he were a nomadic blood-sucker, he wouldn't need to worry about heat and hydro.

The shin-heigh grass crunched dryly beneath the hunters' feet as they carefully approached the building. Dean's grip on his machete tightened. He knew that just because it was daytime didn't meant the vampires would be defenceless. Recalling the attack on the Tranquility Motel, Dean knew that sunlight meant nothing to the blood-suckers.

The path leading to the barn's double-doors was worn down from many hoofed feet, cows or horses, Dean thought, and led towards a paddock with a white-painted fence. Dean already knew what he would find if he moved in that direction- the croaking of crows and the drone of flies were enough to tell him that whatever livestock the farmer had had, they were long dead now and probably their owner too, more than likely- but all he was concerned with was what lay behind the barn doors.

Nodding to Bobby, Dean grabbed the handle to the door on the left while the grizzled hunter grabbed the other and waited a moment before pulling the doors wide.

The coppery tang of blood hit Dean first, nearly bowling him over with its intensity. The young man lifted one arm to try and cover his mouth and nose, his eyes watering.

Bobby, right beside him, paled considerably and he shifted his hands on the handle of his machete nervously.

It was dim in the barn, brown shadows hiding the interior.

Dean raised his weapon into a defensive position and stepped inside...

…And stared, horrified at the carnage laid out before him.

Blood was pooled on the dirt floor, soaked up by the mouldy straw strewn around the barn; it was streaked up the walls, seeming to have been splashed in places like Jackson Pollack in a crimson phase.

Bobby swore under his breath and hefted his machete, squinting for any sign of trouble. Dean's heart was pounding in fear- fear for his brother- and sweat slid his spine.

The young man glanced down at the ground when his foot his something and he recoiled in disgust at the sight of a disembodied arm. Looking up, Dean saw more body parts- a leg, another arm, a head- in pools of blood.

"The fuck happened?" he whispered and Bobby shrugged silently, looking just as confused and scared as Dean.

I have to find Sammy, Dean told himself and pressed onward grimly. He peered over his shoulder when he heard Bobby whisper his name. Dean lifted an eyebrow.

"I don't think those're the victims," the veteran hunter suggested in a hushed tone, "I think they're the vamps."

Dean's expression paled. What could do this to vampires?

To confirm his suspicion, Bobby crouched down in front of the nearest head and carefully pulled back the upper lip of the victim to reveal shark-like fangs.

"SAM!" Dean shouted, terrified for his brother and rushed deeper into the barn, away from Bobby.

Dean turned a corner, nearly slipping in a puddle of congealing blood and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Sammy," he whispered.

There was his brother. Alive.

Sam was standing only a half-dozen feet away from Dean, his eyes wide and glazed, his face as white as a sheet. He was still wearing the hospital gown but now it was spattered with blood. Sam also had blood on his arms, up to his elbows as if he were wearing slick, red gloves.

The youngest Winchester looked up and if anything, his eyes became even wider, his face paler.

"Dean," he breathed but didn't move.

The older brother glanced down and saw the headless corpse of a woman at his brother's feet. Her light green dress was smeared with blood and dirt.

Dean lifted his machete, unsure of what he was supposed to do.

"Dean," Sam said again, louder this time and took a step forward. Dean backed up and Sam stopped, his face crumpling into a hurt expression.

"What… what did you do?" Dean whispered, his mind going a mile a minute to try and process what was happening.

He felt Bobby step up beside him and the older hunter cursed and made to continue forward, towards Sam but Dean lifted the flat of his blade to Bobby's chest, blocking his path.

Bobby ogled Dean and the younger man began walking towards his sibling, slowly, machete held by his side but tightly.

"Sammy," he said carefully, watching his brother intently, "We're not going to hurt you."

"Dean-" Bobby called from behind him but the young man shook his head.

"Shut up, Bobby."

Dean reached out his free hand, fingers shaking slightly, towards his younger sibling.

"It's okay, Sammy."

Sam shook his head.

"No," he muttered, "It's not."

"You're safe now," Dean assured him.

"I killed them," Sam confessed, "I killed them all."

Dean cringed at his brother's words but didn't back down.

"They were monsters, Sammy," he said, "They deserved-"

"They were scared!" the younger man shouted, startling both Dean and Bobby.

The older brother didn't know what to say. He was stunned to see tears well up in Sam's eyes.

Dean dropped his machete and approached his brother, weaponless.

Reaching out, he touched Sam's shoulder, feeling tense muscles underneath and squeezed comfortingly.

"It'll be okay, Sam," he murmured, ignoring the blood and hugged his sibling.

He heard Bobby make a noise in his throat; the older hunter probably thinking that Dean was a dead man but Sam only reciprocated the gesture, embracing him back.

Dean pulled away first, the truth finally hitting him. Sam was a vampire. They had turned him.

His knees shook and he staggered away from his sibling, feeling like he was going to be sick.

"Son," Bobby called and was at his side in a moment, one calloused hand rubbing his back through his leather jacket.

"Sammy," Dean gasped and reached out towards his brother, "Sam."

The older brother glanced up and saw that his sibling was shifting uneasily from foot to foot but hadn't approached him. He was staring at Bobby.

"He won't hurt you, Sammy," Dean told him, and felt Bobby's hand curl into a fist against his back.

"S'alright, son," Bobby rumbled, "Come on over."

Sam almost crept towards them, nervous and shell-shocked.

Dean grabbed the front of the hospital gown his brother was wearing and pulled him closer.

"Dean," Bobby spoke up, "We gotta get out of here before Caleb and Tanner start worrying."

Shit, Dean had almost forgotten about the other two hunters. He looked up at Sam and his brow furrowed. Straightening, Dean released Sam and and looked at Bobby.

"Let's go then."

Bobby bent down and grabbed their machetes. Dean had a hand on his brother's elbow and was leading him towards the front of the barn.

"Hold up," the grizzled hunter said and pointed the blades at a slant of sunlight shining through a crack in the wall of the building, "Sam can't go out like he is."

Dean's mouth opened in protest and he glanced over at his brother.

Thinking quickly, the older sibling shrugged out of his jacket and put the heavy garment over his sibling's head, trying to cover him up as much as possible. Sam looked like one of those underage felons he'd seen on the news, their identities kept hidden by a reporter's sports coat over their faces.

Dean held his breath as they stepped outside. Sam moved closer to him and let out a whimper.

"It's alright," Dean murmured softly, eyes watchful for sight of the other two hunters.

"Dean! Hey, did you-" the trio stopped when Caleb's voice reached them. Bobby rolled his eyes and looked at Dean, "Go on ahead, I'll talk to 'em."

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean said gratefully and guided his brother to where the Impala was parked.

Dean licked his lips nervously. Caleb was a good friend and more open-minded than most hunters but Dean wasn't sure how he'd react if Bobby told him what had really happened to Sam. Dean didn't want to have to hurt his friend if he decided to try and kill Sam.

Once they reached the Impala, Dean opened the trunk and grabbed one of the large 'emergency' blankets before unlocking the back door of the car. Sam climbed inside and Dean draped the blanket over him, covering his brother entirely before taking his jacket back.

Dean kept the door open and waited for Bobby to return. He could hear his brother's breathing, fast and shallow, and the chirrup of crickets and twittering of birds.

Sighing, Dean ran a hand though his hair. How had things become so bad?

"Hey, Sammy?" Dean peered into the backseat, "How're you doing?"

He lifted up one corner of the blanket and peered at his brother. Sam still looked pretty out of it and didn't respond. Just as well, Dean doubted the reply would be 'great! Never felt better!'

Dean looked up when he heard footsteps approaching and couldn't help but tense up when he saw Caleb and Tanner following Bobby.

The youngest hunter gave Dean a wide-eyed look.

"Is it true, Dean? Is Sam really… Did he get turned?"

Dean nodded, "Looks like."

Caleb lowered his gaze and swore.

"It'll be alright though."

Tanner narrowed his eyes at Dean.

"What're you gonna do about this?"

Dean shrugged, "Right now? Get Sam home and make sure he's not hurt."

"Tanner, Caleb," Bobby rumbled, "You two keep your traps shut about this or so help me God, every hunter out there will know you're a pair of backstabbers."

Both men nodded.

"Will you two be okay?" Caleb asked, "'Cause I can come along if you-"

Dean shook his head, "Bobby and I have got this, thanks."

"Call me when you get to Sioux Falls," the other young hunter said and moved away, becoming uncomfortable with the situation.

Tanner sucked on his teeth for a moment, "You just watch yourselves."

Dean gave the older man a suspicious look but Tanner just tipped his Stetson hat and followed Caleb.

"They won't tell anyone about Sam," Bobby assured Dean.

"I don't think Caleb will but Williams," Dean muttered, "I'm not sure."

"I've known him a long time, son," Bobby told him, "Tanner's a man of his word."

"Let's just go home," Dean turned and climbed into the driver's seat.

Bobby settled down in shotgun and looked over his shoulder at the blanket-covered form of Sam Winchester, his heart breaking for the young man.

Oh lord, the veteran thought, what have these boys gotten themselves into now?


	11. Chapter Eleven

Dean found himself looking in the rearview mirror every ten seconds or so, as though he were checking to make sure Sam was still in the car. The older brother pressed down on the gas pedal, willing the Impala to go faster.

"Ya might wanna lighten up there, Andretti," Bobby commented gruffly from shotgun, "Won't do us good to get pulled over."

Dean nodded and slowed down. It would take almost twelve hours to get to Sioux Falls and Dean knew it would be a long drive however fast they were going.

I can't believe we fucking missed one, Dean thought as he glanced at the shrouded figure of his brother; his thoughts turning to the vampires from Elko, Nevada.

Gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, the hunter couldn't help but blame himself for his brother's plight.

If he had been paying more attention, maybe they would have caught that last vampire before she escaped and Sam wouldn't be in the trouble he was now.

"Dean," Bobby's voice jolted the young man from his thoughts, "Yer speeding again. Want me to drive for a while?"

Dean thought about refusing but then he pulled the car onto the gravel shoulder of the road and unbuckled his seatbelt. As soon as he was in the passenger's seat, Dean turned and peered worriedly at his brother's covered form.

"Sam?" he called quietly as Bobby began driving, "You okay?"

There was no response. Dean reached out and lifted the blanket, peering carefully underneath it to get a look at his brother.

Sam's face was as pale as spoiled milk and was covered in sweat, his bangs stuck to his brow and his eyes were wide, pupils large.

"He'll have to be until we can get home," Bobby commented as he put the car in drive and they headed down the highway once again.

Dean lowered the blanket and turned around, his lips pressed into a thin, grim line.

W

Sam appeared to be sleeping. When Dean asked Bobby about it, the older hunter had nodded and commented that vampires spent most of the day sleeping, "Like cats."

"When do you think Sammy's going to start craving, uh, blood?" Dean asked anxiously.

Bobby didn't look away from the windshield, as he spoke, "Shouldn't be long. From what I know, newborn vampires need to feed fairly soon after being turned; if not, they get sick."

Dean sucked in a deep breath; he still couldn't seem to wrap his mind around the fact that his brother was a vampire now.

"Will they die without it?"

Bobby shook his head, "Don't think so. As far as the research is concerned, the only thing that'll kill a vamp is decapitation. But they do need blood. If not, they get all kind of woozy… sluggish."

Dean nodded, hoping that Bobby was right. He just wanted to get to Sioux Falls. He had a feeling that once they arrived at the Salvage Yard; everything would begin to work out for the better.

W

Dean was surprised when he opened his eyes to the familiar sight of the dilapidated house Bobby Singer called home. It was nightfall now and the only light in the Impala came from the dashboard.

"How long was I out?" he stretched and asked Bobby who was just taking the keys out of the ignition.

Bobby shrugged, "Few hours. I didn't wake you 'cause I thought you needed the rest."

"Sam-" Dean said and twisted in his seat to see his brother still covered by the blanket.

"Didn't say peep the entire trip," Bobby commented.

Dean frowned and got out of the car, making his way to the rear passenger door on his side.

"Sammy?" Dean called softly and lifted the blanket up.

His brother blinked owlishly at him, his face very pale.

"We're at Bobby's," Dean smiled as encouragingly as possible.

"B-Bobby?" Sam asked as though confused and Dean nodded.

"C'mon," Dean held out his hand, "Let's get you inside."

Sam took his brother's offered hand and stood up shakily. Dean glanced around and saw Bobby coming around the other side; the older hunter stood so that Sam was between them.

Bobby flicked on the light just inside the door after unlocking it and Sam squinted in the glare, raising a hand to shade his eyes.

"Why don't you get Sam settled?" Bobby suggested and Dean nodded, guiding his brother towards the staircase.

Dean didn't turn on any lights as they walked up the steps and turned towards the room they always shared whenever staying at Bobby's.

Sam sank onto the bed furthest from the door and stared down at the blood-spattered hospital gown he was still wearing.

"You wanna take a shower? I'll see if I can find you something to wear," Dean said casually and Sam nodded without making a move to stand.

"Sammy?" Dean asked and sat down beside his brother, noticing how his sibling tensed when he came near.

"I'm going to find a way to fix this, okay? I am going to make this better. You trust me, right? You trust me to make you human again?"

Sam nodded once and sniffed. Dean reached out tentatively and wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulders.

W

Dean peered into the bedroom to see Sam sitting across from Bobby, the grizzled hunter offering him a glass with a dark red liquid in it.

"Hey!" Dean exclaimed and Bobby jumped, nearly dropping the cup.

"Jesus boy! You tryin' to kill me?" the older hunter grumbled.

"The fuck is that?" Dean asked, dropping the clothes he'd found for his brother.

"Relax," Bobby replied, "It ain't from a human."

Dean held his tongue. He wanted to demand that Sam wasn't going to drink any blood but he knew that was unfair. After what Bobby had told him about vampires, Dean didn't want to see his baby brother become any worse than he already was.

Bobby handed Sam the glass and the young man took a tentative sip. Dean watched as Sam's hesitation vanished and he gulped down the blood like a man in the desert suddenly given a bottle of water.

Dean couldn't help but cringe and looked away, back to Bobby, the hunter's grey eyes sad.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Dean asked and Bobby nodded.

Once Sam had left the room to shower, Dean turned to the older man.

"Is there a way to fix him?"

Bobby blinked, clearly unprepared for the question.

"You mean, reverse what happened to him?"

Dean nodded, "Make him human again."

Bobby sighed and rubbed at his bearded chin, "I don't know. Most people are concerned with killing monsters, not turning them back."

"Sam can't stay like this," Dean insisted, "The cravings for blood… they're going to get bad, aren't they? And other hunters… they can't know what happened."

Bobby nodded along to the younger man's words, "Yer preaching to the choir."

Dean didn't reply.

"I'll look into it, son," Bobby told him, "Just don't hold yer breath."

Dean opened his mouth to speak when the bathroom door opened and Sam stepped out, leaning heavily against the wall, clearly exhausted.

The clothes Dean had given Sam were some of his old ones. They didn't quite fit his younger brother, they were too short in the arms and legs and midriff but they would do for the night.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean took his brother's elbow and guided him the short distance down the hallway to the guest bedroom.

"I'm sorry," Sam mumbled as Dean pulled the sheets on the bed down.

"For what?" Dean looked up, eyebrows furrowed.

"For leaving you and Dad."

"No, Sam," Dean replied and sat down on the bed, "Don't… don't apologize for that."

Sam glanced down at his hands, "None of this wo-would have happened if I hadn't left. If I had listened to D-Dad."

Dean frowned, "Dad's not right all the time."

Sam didn't continue so Dean stood up and told him to lie down, pulling the blankets up to his brother's chin. Dean couldn't help but think that Sam was right; if he had listened to their father and stayed, he may not have had his run-in with the vampires from Elko but he kept his mouth shut. It wouldn't do anyone any good to voice that opinion.

"Okay Sammy," Dean sighed and straightened, "I'm going to be downstairs for a while. Just call if you need anything."

Sam nodded and Dean turned, closing the door after himself.

When he entered the kitchen, the young man saw Bobby already at the table, a thick tome sitting in front of him and a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Find anything?" Dean asked and poured himself a cup of jo.

"Not yet. Pull up a chair and help me out, will ya?"

Dean did as asked without complaint. The sooner they found the cure for vampirism, the sooner Sam would be back to normal and then they could put all of this behind them.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Caleb Blacker stared despondently across the bar as he tore the label of his untouched beer into strips.

He just couldn't believe it. Sure, he had heard about it happening to other hunters- rookies, the older guys- but no one he knew personally.

Sam Winchester had been turned into a vampire. Even thinking it seemed ludicrous.

What was going to happen to the kid now? What were Dean and John going to do?

Caleb shook his head and took a drink of his lukewarm beer. He was glad he didn't have any siblings.

The hunter looked up as someone took a seat beside him and frowned at the sight of Gordon Walker.

Leaning over the counter, Caleb raised an eyebrow at his fellow hunter, "There's tons of room over that way."

He pointed, as he spoke, to the far end of the bar, away from where he sat.

"Don't be like that, Blacker," Gordon chastised, "You just looked like you could use some company."

"Huh," Caleb smirked, "Unless you're gonna give me a lap dance, you're not really the company I was looking forward to."

The dark-skinned hunter laughed and flagged down the bartender, ordering himself a beer.

"So, that Winchester kid," Gordon began and Caleb sighed, realizing the other man was not going to leave him alone, "For someone who's never hunted vampires before he sure knew how to slice and dice 'em."

"Dean's one of the best hunters I've ever met," Caleb told Gordon, meaning ever word of it.

"I don't doubt it," Gordon replied and took a drink of his beer before continuing, "His father has quite the reputation."

"Uh huh," Caleb muttered and finished his beer, searching his pockets for his wallet.

"Leaving so soon? What's the matter, not in the mood for a friendly chat?" Gordon asked as the younger man laid some money down on the bar.

"Not with you," Caleb told him and turned to go.

The hunter glanced down at Gordon's hand on his arm, "What do you want?"

"That kid," the dark-skinned hunter began, "Was that really John Winchester's boy?"

Caleb sat down and Gordon ordered him another beer, "Yeah, it was. Sam; John's youngest. Poor guy got must have got himself messed up in some serious shit to run into vamps like that."

SPN

Dean rolled his shoulders, trying to stretch the sore muscles. A stack of books sat precariously before the young man, all of them useless.

"There's nothing about turning a vampire back to human," Dean grumbled and shoved the current book he was reading, away in disgust.

Bobby raised an eyebrow, "Of course it won't be right out there in the open, son. It's much easier to kill vamps than to try and change 'em."

Dean sighed and rubbed a hand tiredly over his face.

"What if there is no cure?" he asked, feeling his throat squeeze at the thought, "What if I can't fix Sam?"

Bobby's expression was sympathetic, "I'm sure there's something out there that'll help your brother. We just have to keep looking until we find it."

Dean nodded and stood, "I'm going to get some more coffee. You want any?"

Bobby shook his head and squinted down at the tiny print in the tome he was reading.

Dean walked into the kitchen and poured himself some coffee, leaning against the counter for a moment and closing his eyes.

This was his fault. If he had been watching Sam he would have been ready for the vampires. But no, instead he was sleeping like a log upstairs while his brother was in danger.

After everything that had happened to Sam, it just seemed like a slap in the face for him to be turned into one of the monsters who had tortured him for so long.

The sound of an approaching vehicle brought Dean from his thoughts and his mouth dropped open in shock when he saw the familiar form of his father's large, black truck.

"Son of a bitch," he swore and, setting his coffee mug down, rushed into the living room.

Bobby, who had also heard the eldest Winchester's vehicle, stood near the door, waiting for John's entrance.

Dean felt anger swell in his chest. His father had ignored his calls for so long and now- now- he showed up, far too late to do any good.

The door opened and Dean rushed forwards, punching John in the jaw before his father could react.

Bobby grabbed the young man's arm as it raised again, "Stop!"

"What the fuck?!" Dean snarled and John stepped through the doorway, rubbing his sore chin.

"Dean-" John began but his eldest interrupted him.

"Did you listen to my messages and just ignore them? Huh? Why? Because it was Sammy? If it had some regular Joe Blow you would've come running, right?"

"Dean, stop," Bobby growled and released the young man once he was sure John wasn't going to get hit again. Not that he didn't deserve it.

"I did get your messages," John informed them, his own temper rising at the fact that his son was questioning him, "But I had other priorities."

Dean's eyes widened in disbelief, "Other priorities? What the hell takes priority over your missing kid?!"

John shoved past Dean, "I don't have to put up with this. I'm not explaining myself to you."

"Why?" Dean argued, "Tell me what you were doing in Colorado."

John turned back to his son, his dark eyes smoldering, "I was getting something that will help us destroy the bastard who killed your mother. Does that answer your question?"

Dean didn't know what to say, he was shocked.

"Where's your brother?" John asked and raised his voice to call his youngest son's name.

"What makes you think Sam wants to see you?" Dean asked, stalling.

John ignored him, "SAM!"

"Shut up! He's sleeping," Dean snapped and headed towards the staircase.

"Well, wake him," John demanded, "I want to see him."

"Johnny," Bobby interrupted before either Winchester could say anything else, "Sit down and have a beer."

The younger hunter looked torn for a moment but apparently couldn't pass up an offer of free alcohol and he followed Bobby into the kitchen.

Dean ran up the stairs and into the gest bedroom. Sam was lying on his side, his eyes closed.

Cautiously, Dean reached out and touched his sibling's shoulder.

Sam's eyes opened instantly and he looked up at his brother. Dean frowned, Sam looked exhausted. He was pale and had dark shadows under his eyes.

Dean scratched the back of his neck, "Uh, Dad's here and he wants to see you."

Sam sat up and his eyes widened.

"Did you… tell him?" he asked nervously.

Dean shook his head, "No, of course not."

"He'll find out," Sam muttered, shoulders slumping.

"And when he does, I'll be there beside you," Dean assured his brother, "Besides, you're his kid, what would he do?"

Sam opened his mouth but Dean held up a hand, "Don't answer that. It'll be okay, Sammy."

Dean suddenly tilted his head to the side.

"Um… Sam… your… teeth…" Dean stammered, trying to tell his brother that his fangs were showing and looked creepy as hell.

Sam raised his hand to his mouth and his eyes widened once again.

"It's okay," Dean assured him, "Just calm down."

Sam nodded, his lips pursed into thin lines. He looked guiltily at his brother before opening his mouth again.

Dean shook his head, trying to figure out what to do.

"Are you thirsty?" Dean asked and Sam nodded, "A little bit."

Running a hand through his hair, Dean wondered how he was going to sneak his brother some blood with their father sitting in the kitchen.

"Okay, we might as well head downstairs before Dad starts wondering what's going on," Dean sighed, "Just, keep your mouth closed."

Sam nodded and stood up. Dean's eyes pinched in sympathy; Sam was very thin and the scars from the vampire bites were clearly visible on his arms.

Hopefully Dad won't ask too many questions, Dean prayed as he walked from the room, Sam following close behind him.

Dean could hear his father and Bobby talking in the kitchen as he descended the stairs and his heart began to pound in his chest. He heard Sam make a small sound behind him and he looked over to see his brother had sweat beaded on his brow, the muscles in his jaws tense.

"Sam?" Dean asked and his brother pounced.

SPN

Bobby told John everything about Sam's rescue barring that his youngest boy was a vampire now.

The younger hunter shook his head, "How'd he get involved with those monsters anyway?"

Bobby shrugged, "We haven't really had a chance to ask him; Sam needed to rest before we interrogated him."

John took a healthy swig of beer, "I should have known something like this would happen to that boy. He's a magnet for trouble."

Bobby narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.

He hoped Dean wouldn't be much longer; Bobby didn't know how much longer he could resist the urge to shove the muzzle of his shotgun up the younger hunter's ass.

Bobby couldn't help but feel a bit of relief when he heard footsteps on the stairs.

"That'll be Dean and Sam now," he told John, "Now, Sam's been through the wringer so try not to give him the third degree right away, will you?"

John nodded but Bobby wasn't convinced. He could almost see the thousand questions plastered across the father's face.

John finished his beer and stood. Bobby left his drink and moved to stand as well, leaping up when he heard an almighty crash and a cry of pain.

SPN

Dean landed heavily on his back at the bottom of the staircase, Sam landing on top of him. Stunned from the impact, the older brother didn't move for a second. That was a mistake. Sam grabbed his throat in one hand and a tuft of his hair in another, angling his neck to one side.

"Gah!" Dean shouted and grabbed at his brother's arms, trying to push him away, "Don't!"

Sam wasn't Sam. His green eyes were oddly dark and his fangs shone with saliva. As he lowered his head to take a bite Dean struggled in vain, his brother was too strong.

"SAMMY! NO!" Dean begged, unable to move.

Dean closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable. He gasped when Sam's weight was lifted off him and he struggled to his side, wheezing and rubbing his sore neck, Bobby gripping his shoulder comfortingly.

Dean looked up and what he saw made his heart stop. John had Sam pinned against the wall, his father's forearm across his brother's neck. Sam's eyes bulged in their sockets as he clawed at John's arm, fangs snapping inches form the man's face.

"Dad! Let him go!" Dean exclaimed and staggered into a standing position.

John ignored his eldest, his free hand pulling a serrated hunting knife from his jacket pocket.

"NO!" Dean cried, and rushed forward grabbing his father's arm to pull it back.

John shoved Dean out of the way and lowered the knife to Sam's neck.

"Hurt that boy and I'll fill you full of buckshot," Bobby growled, the barrel of his shotgun pressed against John's back.

The younger hunter stopped moving but he didn't lower the knife or take his arm away from his son's neck.

"Drop the knife," Bobby instructed, pressing the muzzle of the gun harder against John's back.

John did as he was told and Dean was alarmed to see blood bloom against his brother's pale throat.

"Now, back away slowly," Bobby continued and John lowered his arm, shuffling away from his youngest.

Once free, Sam curled in on himself, one hand going to his neck, coughing from being choked.

"Sammy!" Dean was instantly at his brother's side, despite what had just happened with his father.

Dean peered at his brother and saw tears in his sibling's green eyes.

"D'n, I'm sorry!" Sam moaned, "I didn't mean to!"

"I know you didn't," Dean assured him, "It was an accident."

Carefully, Dean pulled Sam's hands away from his neck to examine the cut. It wasn't very deep but it looked painful.

"Dean! What are you doing?!" John snapped and the young man looked down at his hands, his fingers slick with his brother's blood.

"I'm taking Sam upstairs," Dean announced and put a comforting arm around his brother's shoulders.

"Dean," John said and made to move towards his sons but a look from Bobby stopped him.

Dean guided Sam into the second floor bathroom and had him sit on the closed toilet lid.

Sam's shoulders were hunched, his arms wrapped around his middle.

"I'm sorry," he muttered again, "I-"

"Sam," Dean said sternly, turning on the tap over the sink and rinsing his hands under the hottest water he could stand, "Stop it. It's not your fault. I should have known better."

Sam sniffed sadly but nodded.

Dean looked up when Bobby stepped into the doorway.

"He going to be okay?" the veteran hunter asked and Dean nodded, "I don't think it'll need stitches or anything."

"Where's Dad?" Dean asked as he took the First Aid Kit from the cupboard under the sink and opened it, finding a pre-packaged alcohol wipe and tearing it open.

"Lift your head a bit, Sammy," Dean instructed and Sam did as he was asked, flinching at the stinging sensation as the wound was cleaned.

"Yer Daddy's cooling his heels in the kitchen," Bobby told the brothers, "I'll expect he'll have a lot to say once you come back downstairs."

Dean nodded. He did not want to have that conversation with his father.

Once the cut was clean, Dean taped a square of gauze over it and turned back to Bobby, "Can you get Sam something to drink?"

Once the veteran hunter left, Dean stared at his brother for a long moment, frowning when he caught sight of the scars of an old bite on Sam's neck.

"I'll talk to Dad," Dean told him, "You just stay up here and relax."

Sam shook his head, "I should… I should tell you what happened… I should tell Dad…"

"Dad doesn't deserve to know what you went through," Dean argued but his brother shook his head.

"Maybe… Maybe he'll understand if he knew…" Sam ventured but Dean didn't think John was going to very open-minded now that he'd almost seen his youngest son kill his oldest.

Bobby returned, a coffee mug in his hand. He held it out to Sam who took it gratefully and drank deeply.

Dean looked over at the older hunter, "How much more do you have?"

"Not enough," the hunter told him, "We'll have to get more pretty soon."

Dean nodded, especially if Sam suddenly vamped-out every few hours or so.

Once Sam was finished, Bobby took the cup back and Dean turned to his sibling, "Ready to get this over with?"

Sam nodded and stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Dean and Sam followed Bobby downstairs and entered the kitchen. John looked up at their entrance and his gaze was pinned on his youngest son.

"Here's how its going to go, Dad," Dean told his father, leaning over the table intimidatingly, "Sam's going to talk and you're going to listen. That's it. Just sit there. No comments or anything. Got it?"

John shook his head and began to stand, "I don't have time for this bullshit."

Bobby stepped forward, "I'd suggest you listen to your boy, Johnny."

"Boy? He's a monster! He tried to kill Dean! You saw it-" John began but abruptly stopped when Bobby punched him in the mouth.

"Now sit down and shut up," the grizzled hunter ordered and John fell back into his seat, shocked that Bobby had hit him.

"Can you handle this on yer own?" Bobby asked, turning his attention to Dean.

The young man nodded.

"Okay, I'm gonna go get something for Sam," Bobby said and left the kitchen.

The three Winchesters stared mutely at one another for a moment before Dean pulled a chair out for his brother, "something tells me this is going to take a while."

Sam nodded and looked anywhere but at his father's face. He peered down at his hands for a long moment before he started speaking.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Sam had never been more excited- or nervous- before in his life.

He was finally on his own, taking charge of his life. He had a full-ride to Stanford and he was going to make something of himself.

He grinned as the Greyhound tore up the miles, carrying him further and further away from his past and on towards his future.

He was going to be a lawyer; he was going to help people. He wouldn't have to be afraid of getting hurt or killed on the job anymore.

He'd never felt so free.

Thinking back to the night before- the night he'd left- Sam frowned.

John hadn't wanted him to go. He'd called Sam selfish, said he didn't care about seeing his mother's killer brought to justice. He'd acted as though Sam was betraying their family- of betraying him- by wanting something more than a life on the road.

Not wanting to fight anymore, Sam had turned away from his father, even as John continued to shout at him.

Dean hadn't said a word throughout the entire tirade. Hell, he had barely said anything when Sam told him and John about Stanford- springing it on them the very night of his departure.

Sam wondered if Dean felt betrayed like John did.

He hoped not. He couldn't bear it if Dean hated him for trying to choose his own destiny.

Sam told himself that he'd call Dean as soon as he got to Stanford, at least to let him know he'd made it in one piece.

W

Elko, Nevada was tiny. Barely a dot on the map. It's major source of income were the tourists who drove through on their way to Las Vegas.

Its bus depot was even tinier.

Sam stepped off the Greyhound and stretched his stiff muscles. The air was warm and dry, carrying with it the scent of dust and sage grass.

Making his way across the gritty concrete, Sam pulled open the smeary door and let himself into the depot.

"Excuse me," he said as he walked up to the desk where a grey-haired woman sat, knitting.

"Yes, how can I help you?" she asked, peering up at Sam through thick-rimmed glasses.

"I need to catch a bus to Carson City, when does the next one arrive?" Sam asked politely.

The woman's lips pursed, "Next one doesn't come until tomorrow morning, Hun."

"Oh," Sam sighed.

"Do you have anywhere to stay for the night?" The woman asked kindly.

"Well, no," Sam admitted, "I'm just passing through on my way to California."

The elderly woman nodded, "Always passing through. That's what everyone says."

"Are there any motels around here?" Sam asked hopefully.

The woman nodded, "There's the Tranquility down that way. Nice place. It's not far; could probably walk from here."

"Thank you," Sam said and turned back around.

Outside the depot again, Sam decided his next course of action.

It was almost five o'clock and Sam hadn't eaten anything on the bus. Glancing around, he spied a sign for a restaurant called Cal's and crossed the street, making a beeline for the diner.

Cal's boasted a Southwest theme. It had retro wood-paneled walls and brown-speckle tiled floors. The vinyl seat covers on the booths and bar stools was chocolate brown. Taxidermy head of pronghorn antelope, bison and mountain goats hung from the walls. A stuffed jackalope sat on the bar, a brass nameplate introducing it as 'Wyatt'.

Sam smirked and sat down in a booth at the back of the diner. Moments later, a waitress wearing a cowgirl outfit appeared.

She handed Sam a menu, "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Coffee, please," Sam said and the waitress nodded, walking away.

Sam flipped through the menu while he waited, grimacing at the diner's meal choices.

Hamburgers, ribs, chicken wings; food fit for a carnivore.

Dean would love this place, Sam thought as he turned the page and glanced at the small list of salads available.

Maybe I'll just have a sandwich, Sam decided and settled on a buffalo chicken club.

I should be celebrating anyway.

Sam told the waitress his order when she returned with his coffee and he glanced out the window, curious about the tiny town he had stopped in.

Many of the shops and businesses were closed for the night and the streets were all but deserted. Strange for a town that seemed to thrive on tourism.

"Are you just passing through?" the waitress asked as she brought out his sandwich.

Sam nodded, "I'm going to California."

The waitress smiled, "That's nice. Hey, you have anywhere to stay for the night? The Tranquility motel isn't too far from here and it's really great. They even have one of those continental breakfasts in the mornings."

Sam nodded, "Yeah, I think I'll be headed over there."

The waitress told him to enjoy his meal and walked away.

Huh, she's the second person who's suggested the Tranquility, Sam thought.

W

By the time Sam left Cal's, the sun had almost set. He walked down the street in the direction the lady at the bus depot had pointed, seeing no one else as he went.

He walked as far as the end of the sidewalk and kept going. He guessed he was going the right way. The road continued on, so there must be a motel in that direction.

Why would a motel be out in the middle of nowhere? I know Elko isn't all that big but why not have the Tranquility closer to town?

Sam shook his head, he was tired from hours of sitting on a bus and just wanted to get some sleep.

He knew small towns could be a little bit odd- he had been through enough of them- that he didn't let the strangeness of Elko bother him.

The land began to rise and Sam sighed. The woman at the Greyhound station and the waitress didn't mention that the walk was going to be such a hike.

C'mon Sam! He thought, Dad's made you walk farther for training! The motel will show up in a few minutes. Stop being a baby!

At the top of the crest, Sam smiled when he caught sight of an L-shaped building at the other side of the swell. It was aluminum sided, with a neon sign out front that said 'TRANQUILITY' in red letters.

W

The redhead at the reception desk looked up when Sam opened the front door.

"Welcome to the Tranquility Motel," she said, smiling.

She was a little bit chubby, with copper-coloured hair, clear blue eyes and a generous helping of freckles on her cheeks and nose.

"Hey, I'd like a room for the night," Sam said and the girl smiled even wider.

"Good, we have lots of rooms free," she said, "Single?"

"Yeah," Sam said; of course, no one else had come in with him.

The redhead typed something into the ancient, grey computer that sat on the desk and looked back up at him, telling Sam the price.

"Do you accept cash?" Sam asked and the girl pointed to a sign that read, 'Cash Only' sitting on the far end of the desk.

Blushing slightly Sam nodded and took out the bills he needed.

"Here's your key," the redhead said and handed him a key with a red plastic fob attached to it, "You'll be in room 5 tonight."

"Thanks," Sam said and left the office.

He walked down the sidewalk towards his room, passing a couple of cars on his way.

Reaching his room, Sam unlocked the door and peered inside. The place looked normal.

The carpet was dark blue as were the curtains; the bed sheets a pastel. The walls were papered in a flower print.

Setting his bag down on his bed, Sam walked over to the A/C and turned it on. The room was stifling! Almost as though it hadn't been aired out in days.

The air conditioner began to chug away, slowly cooling the room.

Sam yanked off his shoes and yawned widely. He was exhausted.

Sam blinked and sighed. He wanted to take a shower but the bed was just so comfortable.

I'll just rest my eyes for a minute, he decided, leaning back against the covers, asleep in seconds.

SPN

"…When I woke up, I was already in a cage," Sam said quietly.

Dean reached out and gripped Sam's arm comfortingly.

John stared at his youngest, arms crossed over his chest, seemingly unmoved by the events leading up to his son's kidnapping.

"If you had listened to me," he intoned, "That wouldn't have happened. None of this would have happened!"

Dean stood up and leaned across the table towards his father.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

Sitting back down, he turned to his brother, "Keep going Sammy."

SPN

Felicity smirked at Sam. The young man glowered at her.

"Hello, Love," she cooed.

"Fuck you," Sam snarled, backing away from the woman.

The vampire titled her head to the side.

"That's very rude," she said, "Your Mama must not have raised you right."

Sam said nothing else.

"I just came down for a quick drink," Felicity said and stepped forward.

The vampire reached out but Sam fought back. He lashed out with his fists, catching her on the chin and snapping her head back.

Felicity was faster however.

One hand snaked out and snatched Sam's wrist, bending it backwards.

Sam gasped with pain and tears welled up in his eyes. Felicity drew Sam close to her, grabbing his hair with her free hand.

"Haven't you figured out that fighting me gets you nowhere? Hm, Love?"

Sam groaned in agony, afraid that the vampire was going to break his arm.

Thankfully, she loosened her hold and Sam sighed with relief.

Felicity turned his arm over, exposing his wrist.

"I'll not send another one like Myron in here but you do need to know your place."

Sam swallowed thickly.

"You have a kind soul," Felicity said, not even looking up, "A gentle soul. I can see it in your eyes."

"Seeing others hurt wounds you even more than a physical blow."

Sam's heart began to beat faster in panic.

Felicity looked up at him and smiled sweetly, "I said that no one would touch you and I intend to keep my word. The others though, do not have my protection."

Sam's mouth went dry and he looked away from the vampire to the other cages around him.

"It can get sooo boring here," Felicity explained, "Especially when tourism is slow in town. We need something to keep us entertained. What Myron did to you was but a taste of what we do."

"And you'll be privy to it all," the vampire smirked, her fangs slipping down over her human teeth, "Unable to help your fellows, unable to end their pain."

Felicity ducked her head and sank her fangs into Sam's wrist, drinking deeply.

SPN

Tears welled up in Sam's eyes and he sucked in a shuddering breath. Dean reached out- tentatively at first- and put a hand on his brother's arm.

"Felicity was right," Sam muttered, "Hearing those people screaming, begging for those monsters to stop… And I couldn't do anything! I… I couldn't handle it. I tried to… but nothing could drown out those sounds."

"You were there for four years?" John asked, "And you didn't try to escape?"

Sam cringed, "I did… once."

Dean's eyes narrowed, "Is that what happened to your leg?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah… Wycliffe did it. To set an example."

"What?" John asked.

"Those sons of bitches hamstrung Sam," Dean told his father.

John's expression turned skeptical, "But he can walk now."

Dean sighed, "It must be the vamp virus. It must have healed him, sort of. If you'd seen Sam when we found him, you wouldn't believe he's the same guy."

All three Winchesters looked up at the sound of the front door opening.

"Bobby?" Dean called and half-stood up in his seat.

To his shock though, it wasn't the grizzled hunter who stepped into the kitchen, it was Caleb.

And behind him was Gordon Walker.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Dean threw an arm in front of Sam, attempting to shield him from the two other hunters.

"What's this happy horseshit?" he asked Caleb, glaring at the other young man.

"Gordon was asking questions about Sam and well… I kind of let it slip out," Caleb explained, looking like a kicked puppy.

John stepped forward, "Gordon? As in Gordon Walker?"

The dark-skinned hunter nodded and reached a hand out, "John. You've got quite a reputation."

The eldest Winchester chuckled, "So do you."

"Get the fuck out of here," Dean snarled, "All of you!"

"Dean," Caleb said, "Listen, this isn't what it looks like-"

"Oh, and what does it look like? To me, it looks like you led Walker right to my brother so he could kill him!"

Gordon stepped up to Dean and the younger man pushed Sam away, trying to keep him as far from Walker as possible.

"It's not Sam anymore!" John insisted.

Dean glared daggers at his father, "Are you even listening to yourself? Did you hear anything Sam just said?"

"The hell is going on here?" Bobby's gruff voice asked from behind Caleb and Gordon.

"They're here to kill Sam!" Dean said and the dark-skinned hunter rolled his eyes.

"You've got it wrong, Winchester," he said, "As much as I would love to kill him, I won't."

Dean narrowed his eyes at Gordon.

"And why not?"

"Do I look that stupid? The moment I kill your brother, you do me in," he explained, "Caleb told me how you two are practically joined at the hip."

"If yer not here to kill Sam, why are you here?" Bobby asked.

"I think I might know a cure," Gordon said, earning disbelieving stares from Bobby and the Winchesters.

"There is no cure, everyone knows that," John argued and Dean looked just as skeptical.

"There is one," Walker insisted, "Look, I've been hunting vampires nearly all my life, you don't think I wouldn't know there was a cure if there was one?"

Dean still didn't look convinced, "What is it?"

"A potion," Gordon said, "Mind if I sit down?"

He took a seat without being offered one.

Bobby stepped around the other hunters and set a cloth bag down on the table. Reaching inside the bag, he pulled out an old milk jug filled with blood.

Gordon raised an eyebrow at the grizzled hunter.

"I ain't stupid either, Walker," Bobby told him, "It's cow's blood."

"What about this potion?" Dean asked.

Both Gordon and Sam watched Bobby set the jug in the refrigerator before Walker spoke again.

"It'll cure someone turned," he told them, "But it has to be taken before they feed on a human."

Dean nodded, "Sam hasn't done that."

"Hm," Gordon muttered, "And the main ingredient- the most important one- is blood from the sire, the vamp who turned the person in the first place."

Dean's heart sank. Felicity's blood was likely now soaked into the straw and dirt floor of the barn.

"Shit," he muttered and looked apologetically at Sam.

"What?" Gordon asked.

"Its impossible to get that now," Dean said, "The vampire who turned Sammy is dead."

Gordon snorted and leaned back in his chair, "Well, you're fucked."

Dean glared at him, "That's it?! For being an expert on vampires you don't know much, do you?"

Gordon stood up, trying to intimidate the younger man, "I kill vampires, boy, I don't waste my time trying to save them."

"Dean," Sam said and tugged at his brother's shoulder, "Dean… It's okay."

"No it's not, Sammy," Dean told him, not even looking at his brother's kicked puppy expression.

"As heartbreaking as this is," Gordon commented, "What are you going to do with him now?"

John spoke before anyone else could, "Since he's already tried to kill Dean, he'll have to be locked up. Bobby's got a panic room in the basement that should work."

Sam stared at his father in shock; Dean glared at the man.

"You are not locking Sam up!" he growled, "He's just spent four fucking years in a cage and you want to stick him in another one?!"

"He's dangerous, Dean! Don't you understand that?" John snarled back.

"It's true," Gordon offered, "If he hasn't fed from a human yet, those cravings are just going to get worse and worse."

Dean turned on the other hunter, "You can shut the fuck up."

"Dad, this is Sam we're talking about," Dean continued arguing with his father, "He's not going to hurt anybody."

"What about you?" John asked.

"That was an accident, right Sam?" Dean said confidently, glancing at his brother, "Sam?"

The young man was looking at the floor, "He's right. I'm dangerous. I killed those vampires and I almost killed you."

"Sam, no," Dean tried but his brother peered up at him, "Dean… please… I don't want to but I would feel better knowing that you were safe with me locked up."

"You don't have to do this, son," Bobby broke in, "We'll find a way to change you back."

Sam shook his head, "You heard him. There is no other way."

"Please, I don't want anybody to get hurt because of me," he continued, his puppy eyes in full force.

Dean's shoulders slumped, "Okay Sammy… if that's what you want."

Sam nodded.

"Bobby?" Dean said and the older man nodded following the two boys as they headed out of the kitchen.

"This is just until we get you fixed, okay?" Dean assured his brother.

"I know, Dean," Sam answered.

The trio walked down the stairs slowly, Sam in front with Dean and Bobby bringing up the rear.

Once they reached the bottom, Bobby took the lead and the brothers followed him to the panic room.

The room had a heavy iron door and the walls were covered in iron as well. The floor was cement with a Devil's Trap painted on it and there was also a one on the ceiling. The only piece of furniture in the room was a cot.

Sam stepped into the room and looked around.

"Are you going to be okay in here?" Dean asked worriedly.

Sam smiled humourlessly, "It's bigger than my other cage."

Dean frowned, "It won't be for long, Sammy, I promise."

"I'll bring you something to drink once Gordon and Caleb clear out," Bobby assured him and closed the door.

Dean watched silently as Bobby slid the lock into place and turned to him.

"Please tell me it's not going to be like this forever," Dean asked the older hunter.

Bobby sighed, "I don't know, son. I really don't."

W

Once they returned to the kitchen, Dean again asked Walker if that was all he knew about a cure for vampirism.

"I would have said if there was anything else," Gordon said.

The dark-skinned hunter looked at his fellows, "Look, I know this is hard 'cause it's your brother and all, but think about it, if it was anyone else, they'd be dead."

"Sam isn't dangerous," Dean insisted, "He's not a killer."

John scoffed and rolled his eyes but his eldest ignored him.

"Okay, so there's no cure that'll work,' Dean said, "Is there a way that Sam could still hunt but without the chance that he could hurt anybody?"

This time Caleb spoke up. He had been so quiet- guilty no doubt- that Dean had almost forgotten he was there.

"I heard a rumor about some vampires eating animals," he said, "Instead of killing people."

Dean looked up, "Well we already have cow blood for Sam."

Gordon nodded, "That's not going to work."

Dean glared at him, "Why not?"

"Like I said before, he's gotta feed from a human to complete the transformation; if you want to think of it like that," Walker explained, "Even drinking animal blood isn't going to cut it. Those vamps likely started off killing people."

"We should put him down," John said, "If there's nothing else that can be done."

"We are not doing that!" Dean snarled at his father.

Bobby crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Gordon, "If you've nothing else to say then get the hell outta my house."

He glanced at Caleb, "You too."

Gordon stood, "Fine. But just remember when you want to take your pet vampire out for a test drive, who do you think he's going to go for first?"

"Fuck you!" Dean shouted and lunged forward, ready to punch the other man.

John though, was ready and grabbed his eldest son's arm.

Caleb remained where he was, his expression troubled and guilty.

"I'm really sorry, Dean," he tried to apologize.

"Get out," Dean demanded.

The other hunter retreated quickly. Dean only calmed when he heard the screen door slam shut behind the two men.

Bobby waited for a moment before going to the fridge and taking the jug of blood out. He grabbed a cup from the counter and poured the red liquid into it.

"I'll take it down," Dean offered and Bobby handed him the cup.

"Be careful, Dean," John warned and Dean ignored him.

SPN

Bobby scooped some grounds into the coffee maker and turned the machine on, leaning against the counter as it percolated.

"The hell you thinking, Johnny?" he asked the younger man, "That boy down there is still yer son."

The other hunter though, shook his head, "A monster's a monster, Bobby. They were all somebody's loved ones once but we can't think of them like that anymore. They've killed people and that won't stand. They've lost their humanity."

Bobby gazed steely-eyed at the father, "But Sam's not hurt anyone."

John frowned, "He will, Bobby."


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Dean stood in the doorway of the panic room and watched as Sam drank the blood Bobby had got for him.

He wanted to enter the chamber but Sam had refused him entrance, saying that Dean was safer where he was.

Dean's eyes burned just thinking about it; he shouldn't have to be afraid of his little brother attacking him.

"We'll figure this out, Sammy," Dean told his sibling confidently.

Sam looked up at him sadly.

"You heard what Gordon Walker said," he replied morosely, "The cure is useless now. With Felicity's blood… without it there's no way to change me back."

Dean scowled, "What the fuck does he know?"

"He seemed to know a lot about vampires," Sam answered quietly.

"So what? He doesn't know you personally," Dean argued, "He's barely even met you. Gordon has no idea what you're like."

"I almost killed you," Sam reminded his brother.

Dean shook his head, "That was an accident. Besides, I'm fine. No harm, no foul."

Sam though, didn't look convinced. He sighed and handed Dean the cup back.

Dean took the glass, "You shouldn't have to be here, Sam. You've been in a cage for long enough. Come upstairs. It'll be fine."

The younger brother shook his head and stepped back, further into the room.

"I can't," he insisted.

"Sam," Dean pleaded, "Don't listen to Dad. I'll be okay. You've had something to drink, it should be alright for a while."

Sam didn't move.

"I don't want to hurt anybody else."

Dean sighed and wiped his free hand down his face.

"Fine," he muttered, "But you're not going to be in here forever. Okay? I promise you. You are not going to spend the rest of your life locked in Bobby's panic room."

Sam nodded.

"Do you want a book or something?" Dean asked as he eyed the bare walls.

The younger man smiled slightly, "That'd be nice."

Dean couldn't help but smile back, "Be right down."

W

Dean glared at his father as he stepped into the kitchen and set the empty glass in the sink. He spread his arms out and turned a full circle in an exaggerated motion.

"See? I'm still in one piece."

John shook his head in exasperation, "What is it going to take to make you see that thing down there isn't your brother anymore?"

Dean opened his mouth to reply but Bobby cut in.

"That thing down in my basement is under my protection, Winchester," the veteran hunter growled menacingly, "So while you're enjoying your stay, I want you to leave Sam alone. If I find out you tried to hurt him, I'll fill you with buckshot, don't think I won't."

John blinked at his old friend for a moment before standing up, "I don't have time for this shit. I have better things to do."

Dean's eyes widened in shock. Of course he didn't expect John to suddenly experience a revelation and apologize for demonizing his youngest son but he didn't think his father would walk out. Not after their family was once again together after four long years apart.

"Where the hell are you going?" Dean snarled, blocking the kitchen doorway.

"To find the monster that killed your mother," John growled back and shoved Dean out of the way.

Dean stared at his father's back as John stalked through the living room and stepped out onto the porch.

Bobby came up beside him and put a calloused hand on his shoulder.

"He hasn't seen Sam in four years," Dean said softly.

"He finds out something awful had happened to Sammy and he decides to go hunting," he continued sadly.

"Even after everything Sam told him," Dean said, growing angry again, "Dad still thinks he's a monster."

Bobby shook his head, "Everything is black and white for that man, there is not in between. Certainly you know that by now?"

Dean turned to look at the older hunter as the rumble of John's big black truck faded into the distance.

"This is Sam we're talking about!"

"I know, son," Bobby murmured, "I know."

The veteran hunter sighed and shook his head a little, "How's 'e doing?"

Dean shrugged, "Thanks to Dad and Gordon, Sam thinks he'd dangerous. Won't come out of the panic room."

Bobby nodded sadly.

"Are you sure that's the only way to cure a vampire?" Dean asked desperately.

Bobby bobbed his head, "Gordon Walker may be an asshole but he does know a thing or two about vampires."

"There has to be something else," Dean said, "I mean, hunters generally kill vampires, they don't try to change them back. Maybe there's another way."

Bobby didn't look very hopeful but he squeezed Dean's shoulder, "If you really think there's another cure out there, I'll help you try an' find it any way I can."

W

Dean sat back and rubbed at his aching neck. He had been going over all the books Bobby had on vampires and had found nothing about how to turn one back into a human.

Bobby lowered his own book and looked at the younger man.

Suddenly Dean's eyes widened and he stood up.

"What is it?" Bobby asked, concerned.

"I said I'd bring Sam down a book," he explained, "Damn it!"

Glancing at the clock in the kitchen, the hunter saw that almost two hours had passed since he'd come upstairs.

Walking over to Bobby's bookshelf, Dean grabbed a book without looking and headed in the direction of the basement stairs.

SPN

Bobby sighed and set his book aside.

He knew that their search was going to be a fruitless one. He just didn't have the heart to tell Dean he was wasting his time.

He wished it wasn't so but the only way he knew of to change a vampire back into a human would not work now.

He would help Sam any way he could. The brothers knew they were always welcome to stay with Bobby as long as they wanted and the grizzled hunter hoped that they would not suddenly get the itch to go off on their own.

Bobby trusted Gordon Walker as far as he could throw him and he was sure that if the man met with the Winchesters again he wouldn't hesitate to try and kill Sam. It didn't matter that the young man was someone's brother or that he hadn't killed anybody, he was a vampire- a monster- and needed to be put down, in Gordon's humble opinion.

What was troubling the veteran hunter right now though, was Gordon's warning about Sam's cravings for human blood become increasingly stronger. Despite his dislike for the other hunter, Bobby knew Walker was right. Something needed to be done about that before anyone got hurt.

Bobby turned his grey eyes on the basement doorway as he heard footsteps approaching. Dean paused in the doorway for a moment, looking tired, before he stepped into the living room.

"What? What is it Bobby?"

"We have to 'complete the transformation', Dean," he said reluctantly.

The younger man frowned, "What?"

"Gordon- asshole that he is- was right," Bobby continued, "Sam's cravings for human blood are only gonna get stronger the longer he goes without drinking it. Animal blood just ain't the same."

Dean shook his head, "No. No way, Bobby. I can't believe you're even considering giving Sam human blood!"

"It ain't like we're gonna lure some poor sap here so he can kill 'em, Dean!" Bobby snapped.

The younger hunter didn't reply but crossed his arms over his chest.

"He already attacked you once," Bobby reminded him, hating himself for talking like this, "And its only a matter o' time before it happens again. Sam just won't be able to control himself."

"No," Dean repeated stubbornly.

Bobby took his baseball cap off and scratched his head for a moment before replacing the hat.

"I don't know what it'll do to Sam either… not having human blood… he could get sick."

"Bobby…" Dean started, looking torn.

"I don't like it either," the older hunter told him, "But there ain't much we can do. I'm trying to keep Sam as healthy and safe as is possible in his condition."

Dean nodded, "Yeah… I know… It's just…"

Bobby reached out and put a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"I'm trying to help," Bobby said, "But this is all new to me as well."

Dean bit his lip and nodded.

"Can I… Can I talk it over with Sam?"

"Of course," Bobby told him, surprised that Dean would even ask, "I'll come down with you."

SPN

Sam looked up as the door to the panic room opened and Bobby and Dean stepped inside.

His brother's heart was beating fast- Sam could hear it- and the young younger sibling was instantly anxious as well.

"What's wrong?" he asked, standing.

"Nothing's wrong," Bobby interrupted but the rapid beating of his own heart gave him away.

"Yes, there is," Sam replied, "I know."

Dean sighed, "Bobby thinks we should give you human blood."

Sam frowned, "Why?"

"Gordon said that your cravings for it are only gonna get worse until you can't control yerself."

Sam took a step back.

"Sammy," Dean said and moved forward, "If you drink it now… maybe the cravings won't be so bad…"

The young man shook his head.

"No, Dean," he said, "I can't… You can't make me."

Dean and Bobby exchanged a look.

"No, we can't," the older hunter agreed, "But we're only asking because we're worried for you."

"You don't have to hurt anyone," Dean assured him, "We'll get some blood from the hospital."

Sam still refused.

He wouldn't do it. He couldn't do it.

He was not going to take blood from a hospital.

That was just criminal.

"Please," Dean almost begged.

"No," Sam said sharply, "I'm not doing it. I won't be a monster."

Dean opened his mouth to speak but Sam turned his back. The conversation was over.

He listened as two sets of footsteps told him Bobby and Dean were leaving. Once the iron door closed softly behind them, Sam let out a breath and sank onto the cot, head in his hands.


	16. Chapter Seventeen

"We can't force your brother to drink human blood," Bobby told Dean once they were upstairs again.

"But he'll get sick if he doesn't or he'll go crazy or something!" The older sibling exclaimed.

Bobby sighed, "Maybe we should just wait and see what happens, Dean."

The younger man narrowed his eyes at Bobby.

"Yes, Gordon said that Sam should drink human blood and yes, he knows a lot about vampires," Bobby began, "But maybe we should wait, not push this on Sam. If he doesn't seem any worse for not drinking human blood than I don't see why he should be forced to drink it."

Dean peered suspiciously at the older man.

"A few minutes ago you insisted that Sam needed to drink it."

Now Bobby looked angry, "I know! But I've never had to deal with something like this either, Dean! I'm trying to figure out what's best for your brother."

Dean opened his mouth to reply and then he sighed, raking a hand through his short hair.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, "I just… Sam's already been through hell… I don't want to see things get any worse for him."

Bobby nodded his understanding.

"I wish I had all the answers, Dean," he told the younger man, "I wish I knew what to do."

"Me too," Dean muttered dejectedly.

SPN

John Winchester's black truck barreled down the highway out of Sioux Falls.

The father gripped the steering wheel tightly, fuming.

Why didn't Dean understand?

It wasn't Sam anymore.

Sam was gone.

Sure, it might look like Sam and talk like Sam and act like Sam but it was really a monster.

John growled suddenly when his eyes welled with tears.

He shouldn't have kicked Sam out. He should have forced him to stay. If he had, maybe his youngest wouldn't have become a vampire.

John was sorry. Yes, he was sorry that Sam had left and gotten mixed up with a nest of vampires but it was too late to apologize now. Sam was no more.

What was in his place was a bloodthirsty, conniving beast.

He just hoped that by the time Dean realized that, it wouldn't be too late.

SPN

Sam stared at the book Dean had left for him on the cot; it was a copy of Stephen King's Salem's Lot.

The young man raked his hands through his long hair and sighed, turning away.

He didn't know what to do. He knew Bobby and Dean were only looking out for him, trying to help him but the thought of drinking human blood- no matter where it came from- made Sam sick to his stomach.

John already thought he was a monster. Somehow letting human blood touch his lips, made sense to Sam that it would prove his father right.

"What am I supposed to do?" Sam muttered quietly, "Someone… please tell me what to do."

SPN

Dean sighed and looked helplessly at Bobby.

"I'm not gonna force that boy to do anything he doesn't wanna do," the grizzled hunter stated.

Dean nodded. He felt torn. He didn't want Sam to drink human blood and complete the transformation into a vampire, of course not, but he didn't want his sibling to get sick without it either.

Dean guessed that when someone ingested vampire blood, he or she would instinctually go after the nearest person they could find, turning him or herself into a monster without even realizing it.

But Sam had only been surrounded by vampires, there had been no people around. Dean supposed that if the farmer who owned the barn were still alive, Sam would have gone after him.

Now though, the shock had worn off and Sam was once again his familiar rational self, he balked at the idea of drinking human blood.

Dean didn't know what was going to happen now. Would animal blood suffice? Or would the cravings for blood from a different source become stronger and stronger until Sam couldn't control himself? Would he attack Dean or Bobby? Would he kill them? Or would he become weaker and weaker without that final piece of the curse complete? Would he die if he did not drink human blood? Bobby had said that the only thing that could kill a vampire was decapitation but did that also mean one who had never had human blood?

"I don't know what to tell you, son," Bobby spoke up, bringing Dean out of his morbid thoughts.

The young man sighed and raked a hand through his short-cropped hair, "I'm going out."

The veteran hunter's eyebrows raised in surprise, "Why? Where?"

"Sam doesn't have any clothes that fit," Dean answered and walked to the front door.

Bobby nodded, swallowing thickly.

"We'll think of something," he assured Dean.

The younger man waved a hand to let Bobby know he'd heard him and stepped outside.

Bobby listened as the Impala rumbled to life and the growl of its engine grew faint as Dean drove away from the Salvage Yard.

SPN

Sam dozed. He lay on the concrete floor of the panic room, restless and unhappy.

He would not, could not drink human blood. No matter how much Dean and Bobby pressured him.

The young man sighed and rolled over onto his back, draping one arm over his eyes. He could already feel the beginnings of nagging hunger starting again.

Feed.

Sam sat bolt upright and stared around the room, the hairs on the back of his neck sticking up.

He could have sworn he'd heard a voice talking to him but there was no one around. Certainly it hadn't been his brother or Bobby.

"Hello?" Sam called, just to be sure, but there was no answer.

It's all in my head, Sam thought and laid back down, this time curling up in the fetal position and squeezing his eyes closed tight.

SPN

Dean dumped a half-dozen bags of clothes on Bobby's kitchen table two hours later and the older hunter raised an eyebrow.

"You come home from a shopping trip with more bags than Karen ever did," Bobby commented.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Sam needs the clothes, and he doesn't have anything but the ones on his back."

Bobby nodded soberly, "I know."

"Have you been down to check on him?" Dean asked.

Bobby shook his head; " I figured he wouldn't be too happy with us right now so I decided to wait 'til you got back."

Dean frowned but said nothing. Instead he left the kitchen and headed downstairs. He didn't hear anything from inside the panic room but opened the door anyway; Sam would probably want some clean clothes rather than the old shirt and pants he was currently wearing that were too short for him.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean called quietly as he peered inside, the door open just enough to fit his head through.

The older brother frowned when he saw his brother on the floor instead of the somewhat-more-comfortable cot.

Sam peered over his shoulder at his brother from where he lay, "What's wrong?"

Dean shook his head, "Nothing's wrong. I was just wondering why you're sleeping on the floor."

Sam gave a wan smile, "When you've spent almost four years sleeping on a concrete floor, anything else just feels strange."

Dean didn't smile back. The fact that Sam was more at ease with sleeping on the floor than in a bed saddened him.

"I bought you some clothes," he told his brother, "Want to come upstairs and try some on? I'm pretty sure I got you the right sizes."

Sam didn't respond for a moment but then he said, "You're sure?"

"About the sizes or wanting you out of this room?" Dean asked, his tone serious.

"About me leaving the room," Sam replied, equally as serious, "I'm getting… hungry again… what if I attack you?"

Dean shook his head; "We've still got lots of blood- cow's blood- so you'll be fine."

Sam still hesitated, "If I don't feel right I'm coming back down, okay? Whether you like it or not."

Dean, realizing that this was the only way to get his brother to leave the panic room, nodded, "Deal."

Dean backed up and opened the door more so that Sam could get through. He noticed his brother raise his hand to press one long-fingered hand against his forehead and frown.

"You okay?" Dean asked concernedly.

"Yeah," Sam muttered, "I'm fine. I'll feel better once I've had something to drink."

SPN

Sam stared at his reflection in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of the bedroom door.

He hadn't seen his own self in a mirror in almost four years and was happy to discover that one myth about vampires was untrue. Sam was certain that Dean would have made a joke about it if he'd known what he was doing but the younger sibling wasn't going to tell him.

Wearing nothing but his boxers, Sam stared at himself in the mirror. He was thin, his ribs showing and the scars that had accumulated over the years stood out in stark contrast against his pale skin. The bites on his arms and on his neck were a reddish-purple colour, the lash marks from Myron's whip were white and raised. The scar on the back of his leg however, from Wycliffe's hobbling, was the worst. Thick and raised, ropy-looking, pink and white it was the ugliest souvenir from Sam's time as a captive. The one good thing about being a vampire, Sam admitted, was that his leg had seemed to have healed and allowed him to walk normally. Also, he no longer felt as though his lungs were burning every time he breathed and the need to cough had completely vanished; the beginnings of pneumonia- if that was what it had been- was gone as well.

Sighing, Sam ran his fingers through his shoulder-length hair and squinted at the rather impressive beard he had grown. Little wonder Dean hadn't recognized him at first; Sam himself didn't even recognize his own reflection!

Turning, Sam looked at the piles of clothes Dean had bought for him, on the bed and picked up a pair of jeans.

Feed.

Sam froze and gritted his teeth, raising one hand and pressing his fingers against his brow as though to ward off a headache. Shaking his head, Sam continued dressing when the voice did not return.

Searching through the collection of shirts, Sam smiled when he saw that none of them were T's. Dean had only bought long-sleeved Henley-style shirts and flannel button-ups.

Choosing a grey pullover, Sam dressed and then glanced at himself in the mirror. He looked better, not great, but better. At least he didn't look so horribly skinny anymore; the shirt hid most of it, and the scars, of course.

Sam opened the door and walked out into the hallway. As well as clothes, Dean had also had the hindsight to pick up the personal grooming products Sam would need: a toothbrush and toothpaste, a razor and shaving cream, a comb, etc. Sam closed the bathroom door quietly and set about slowly and meticulously making himself presentable.

SPN

Dean looked up and his mouth dropped open as Sam stepped into the kitchen.

"Wow Sammy, you clean up nicely," he said jokingly and his brother gave him a wan smile.

His younger sibling was dressed in a pair of brand new blue jeans and a grey long-sleeved shirt. Sam had shaved and looked all the better for it. Although his hair was still long- reaching just past his shoulders- Sam had combed it and managed to untangle the knotted mess it had been.

"How you feeling, son?" Bobby asked from where he sat beside Dean.

"Better," Sam replied and shifted uneasily from foot to foot as though unsure of what to do next.

"I should-" he started to say and turned towards the kitchen doorway before Dean stood and held a hand out.

"Sammy," he begged, "Please… you don't have to stay in the panic room all the time. I trust you."

Sam smiled, closed-lipped, "I know… but I don't trust me."

"Damn it Sam!" Dean snapped, "You're not dangerous! Why can't you understand that?"

Sam stared at his brother for a long moment, his green eyes peering out from dark circles, before turning on his heel and fleeing the room.

"Sam!" Dean called and ran after his brother to see him close the basement door, knowing his sibling was going back to the panic room.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean swore looked at Bobby as the grizzled hunter came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"He's not a monster, Bobby," Dean said, "He's still my brother… he's still Sam."

The older man squeezed his shoulder, "I know, Dean. We both know. Sam just needs time to realize that too. And he will, in time."

Dean sighed and stepped away from Bobby, the older hunter's hand falling to his side.

"The first thing Sam did when he was turned was kill those other vampires," Bobby continued, "And you know how Sam is. Even though they'd done horrible things to him, he still felt badly for doing what he'd done to them. He just doesn't want that to happen again… to you."

"He won't," Dean insisted, "If he can control the cravings…"

The younger man sighed, knowing he'd get nowhere by telling all this to Bobby.

"Should I go talk to him?" Dean asked.

Bobby shook his head, "Let 'im be for a bit. I need your help with some research anyway."

Dean nodded and followed the grizzled hunter into the living room, once again beginning his search for a cure that would make Sam human again.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Dean shoved the book he had been reading, aside and stood.

"Damn it, Bobby!" he growled in frustration, "Maybe that asshole Gordon was right and there is not cure for Sam."

The grizzled hunter looked up and sighed.

"I don't know what to tell you, Son," he commented, "I just don't. There may be something out there but it ain't in any of these books."

Dean nodded, running a hand through his hair. They had been searching for hours to find any scrap of information that may lead to a cure for Sam without any luck at older brother was really starting to lose hope that Sam would become human again.

"I may be a good hunter and have lots of books," Bobby, "But I ain't the only one. We'll find something Dean, have faith."

Dean nodded but didn't look convinced in the least.

"I'm going to check up on Sam," he told the veteran hunter and left the living room.

SPN

Bobby watched the younger man leave before swiping his baseball cap off his head and scratching his scalp, sighing.

He really had no idea what they were going to do to help Sam.

He wished there was someone he could look to for all the answers instead of being the one always supplying them.

Bobby knew that Dean expected him to find some miracle cure that would make his brother human again but the veteran hunter knew, deep down that they were grasping at straws.

He just hoped Dean wouldn't be too disappointed when he found that out for himself.

SPN

"Sammy?" Dean called, rapping his knuckles against the heavy metal door of the panic room.

There was no response but Dean didn't worry; the door was thick iron and heavy.

Turning the handle, the older brother peered into the room. Sam was inside, lying on his back on the concrete, hands laced behind his head.

"Hey," Dean said, stepping into the room, "How're you doing?"

Sam looked up and shrugged.

"We'll find a cure, Sammy," Dean said, "I'm sure of it. There has to be one."

Sam lay his head back down, "I don't think so, Dean."

The older Winchester frowned, "You don't know that."

Sam rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow, "Bobby knows everything about every monster out there, don't you think he'd be aware of a cure for vampires?"

Dean shook his head, "Maybe… maybe no one here has heard of it. Maybe its used by hunters in Asia or… or Europe or… I don't know! Australia or something!"

Dean just couldn't- wouldn't- accept that there was no way to make his brother human again. It was his fault Sam was a vampire in the first place; if he had been paying more attention, if he had stayed with his brother, then he could have saved his brother.

Sam smiled sadly, "Face it, Dean. I'm a monster now."

Dean started forward angrily, "You are not a monster, Sammy! Monsters hurt people; you've done nothing to no one!"

Sam stared at him, clearly unsure of how to counter that.

"I almost killed you," he reminded Dean quietly.

"Will you get over that?!" the older brother demanded, "I didn't get hurt. It was an accident. You didn't know what you were doing."

Sam stood, his reflexes lightning quick and Dean took an unconscious step back. He watched silently as Sam approached, his movements oddly graceful; Dean hadn't noticed that before.

"I knew, Dean," Sam told him, "I knew exactly what I was doing."

Dean shook his head, "No way. I saw you. You were… rabid."

The older brother cringed at the lack of a better word and Sam smiled slightly.

"I didn't care that you were my brother," he continued, "I didn't care that you'd rescued me. I was just so thirsty and I wanted it to stop, whatever the cost."

"Sam," Dean began but his brother interrupted.

"Maybe you should do everyone a favour and put me down before another hunter does."

"No way! Stop saying stuff like that! You are not a monster! You're my little brother and I am not going to kill you! I'd rather rot in Hell than do anything to hurt you!"

Sam looked at Dean through his bangs, the long dark hair obscuring his eyes.

"I don't know how much longer I can take this," he muttered, mostly to himself Dean thought, but he had heard his brother.

"Take what?" he asked, "What's wrong, Sam?"

Sam reached up and pressed three fingers against his temple, hissing as though he was in pain.

"Do you have a headache?" Dean asked, "I can get you some Tylenol… it might work."

Sam shook his head, holding out a hand, "No… no it's not that. It's… It's this voice… in my head, telling me to feed."

Dean gaped, shocked and a little bit frightened.

"What? Who? How long has this been going on?"

Sam lowered his hand, curling it into a fist, "Since this morning. At first I thought it was all in my head… you know… that I was imagining it. But now, it won't go away… even after I drank the cow's blood… I think… I think it- he- wants me to feed on a human."

"Sam…" Dean said but then bit his lip. He didn't know what to say; he had been the one to try and force his brother to drink human blood, fearing he might become ill if he didn't complete the transformation, and now it seemed that he was right, at least partly.

"Maybe… Maybe it'll go away," Dean suggested, knowing that Sam would only become defensive and angry if he told him to drink human blood.

Sam shrugged, "It hasn't yet."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck and sighed, "Maybe you should drink some blood."

He watched his brother for a reaction, expecting Sam's face to harden with anger, his hands to clench into fists, but that didn't happen. Instead, Sam looked sad.

"I don't know what to do, Dean," he whispered.

"I… I can't tell you what to do, Sammy," Dean replied, "As much as I'd like to think I can. This is your choice. We can get some blood from the hospital; you wouldn't even have to hurt anybody, and maybe that voice would go away."

Sam bit his lip, unaware that his fangs were showing and sighed.

"Not yet," he told his brother, "But maybe… soon."

Dean, knowing that he wouldn't convince his brother otherwise, nodded, "Okay, okay, yeah… soon. If that voice doesn't go away on its own."

Sam nodded.

Dean glanced around the panic room for a moment, "Do you need anything?"

Sam shook his head.

"Let me know if you change your mind," Dean told Sam, not sure if he meant what he had said about his brother needing anything or if it was the blood he was talking about.

Dean closed the door softly, wishing it didn't feel so much like locking his brother into a cell, and turned, walking back upstairs slowly.

SPN

Bobby listened intently to Dean as the younger man relayed to him everything Sam had told him in the panic room.

"A voice in his head? I ain't never heard of that with vamps," the grizzled hunter said concernedly, "That don't sound good at all."

Dean nodded, "I know. What do you think it could be?"

Bobby shrugged, "Haven't the foggiest."

Dean sighed, his shoulders slumping.

"I don't know how to help him," he muttered, "I don't know what to do to make him believe he's not evil."

"You'll think of something," Bobby told Dean, "I know you will."

SPN

Sam paced the floor, one hand rubbing his forehead as the voice continued to whisper to him, demanding that he feed. The young man closed his eyes tight, biting his lip. He didn't know how to make the voice stop, unless he did as it demanded and drank human blood; the idea of which disgusted Sam.

Feed.

No! Get out of my head! Get the hell out!

Sam reached up and grabbed fistfuls of his own hair, tugging at the strands in frustration.

Sighing, Sam lay down on the floor and, eyes still closed, tried to think of something else, anything else but blood.

He tried to list all the elements of the periodic table, alphabetically, making it to Einsteinium before the voice interrupted in a sibilant hiss.

He tried to read the book Dean had left him- Salem's Lot- but the voice wiggled its way into his brain, between the words the author had written, making concentration on the text impossible.

Sighing, Sam gave up and settled on trying to sleep. At least if he slept, he didn't think the voice would intrude.

W

"Sam," Dean was saying, "I really think you should drink human blood."

"I can't, Dean!" Sam insists, "Don't ask me again!"

"Well," Dean comments, "We don't have any more cow blood."

Sam narrows his eyes at his brother.

Feed.

"That's right, Sammy," Dean tells him, "Listen to the voice. Feed."

"NO!" Sam shouts, "I won't!"

Dean smiles and spreads his hands out, "I'm standing right here. I know you want to. I can see it in your face. You're imagining what my blood tastes like."

"Get away from me, Dean!" Sam growls, turning away, "You're sick!"

Feed.

"Where's Bobby?" Sam wonders out loud. There is no sign of the grizzled hunter and the young man is suddenly worried.

Dean reaches out and puts a hand on his brother's shoulder, turning Sam's attention back to him, "Don't you remember? You killed him, Sammy."

"What? No! I couldn't have!" the younger man cries, shocked and horrified.

Dean nods, "You did."

Sam closes his eyes and shakes his head, feeling nauseous. When he looks again, his brother is now gone. He is alone.

"Dean?" Sam calls, feeling his heart sink, "Dean!"

With no response forthcoming, Sam steps forward, anxious. He leaves the panic room and steps out into the basement.

"Dean?" Sam calls his brother again, "If this is your idea of a joke it's not funny!"

Silence answers.

Sam approaches the stairs, listening for any sign of his brother. He reaches out and lays a hand on the railing, drawing back quickly with a gasp of surprise as his fingers touch warm wetness against the wood. Raising his hand to his face, Sam's eyes widen at the sight of his fingers smeared red.

"No," he breathes and dashes up the staircase, "NO!"

The young man stares, shocked and horrified at the sight that greets him. Bobby and Dean are lying on the hardwood floor, unmoving.

"Dean? Dean!" Sam shouts and rushes to his brother's side.

Sam falls to his knees; Dean's eyes are open, glazed and unfocused, a red wound in his neck trickles blood.

"Dean? Dean!" Sam cries and grabs his sibling's shoulders, "Wake up!"

The older Winchester's head flops back and forth, his entire body limp.

"No," Sam mutters, helpless, "No, Dean. Please… Please wake up."

Looking up, Sam turns now to Bobby. The grizzled hunter's baseball cap lies beside him as if forgotten, his limbs beginning to grow stiff with rigor mortis.

"Bobby?" Sam says, "Bobby… I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Footsteps catch the hunter's attention and he looks up to see a tall, thin man of African descent watching him from across the room. The man is wearing a black suit with a red tie, his dress shoes polished to a high shine. He is bald and his fingernails are curiously long for a man's, sharpened almost like claws. It is his eyes though, that disturb Sam; dark and fathomless, they seem to be boring into the hunter, reading his soul, judging him, measuring him.

W

Gasping, Sam woke, trembling. Sighing, he ran a hand over his face and blinked up at the ceiling.

The sound of footfalls caused Sam to sit up, anxiety skyrocketing until Dean opened the door.

"I brought you some more blood," his brother told him, holding out a glass cup full of the red liquid, "I thought you might be thirsty."

"Uh… Yeah. Yeah, thanks," Sam muttered and stood, trying to shake off the dredges of the dream.

"Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost," Dean asked, concernedly.

Sam shook his head as he took the offered drink, "I'm fine."

Dean nodded, his expression skeptical.

"You sure?" he persisted.

Sam nodded, gulping down the blood.

"Okay," his brother replied, his tone still uncertain as he took back the cup.

"Let me know if things start getting anymore… weird," Dean told him, "Okay?"

"I will," Sam promised, thinking of his disturbing dream.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

"How's Sam doing?" Bobby asked as Dean closed the basement door, sighing dejectedly.

The younger man shook his head, "I think he's getting worse, Bobby."

The grizzled hunter frowned but said nothing, as he'd told Dean before, he wasn't about to force Sam to do anything he didn't want to.

"I'm really worried about him, Bobby," Dean muttered, "And about us."

Before, Dean had feared that his brother might become ill if he didn't feed on human blood and complete the transformation, now Dean was concerned the cravings would be too much for Sam and his sibling would attack him or Bobby.

"Let's just wait and see what the morning brings," Bobby told Dean, "And then start fresh from there."

The younger hunter nodded, not looking very confident but didn't know what else to do other than follow his friend's advice.

SPN

Morning brought with it the sharp, earthy scent of fresh coffee, renewed worry and the newspaper.

Dean sat down with a mug of coffee and stared at Bobby whose face was hidden behind a paper. Before making his way to the kitchen, the older Winchester had gone down to the panic room to check on his brother. Sam had been fast asleep on the concrete floor and Dean hadn't wanted to disturb him, even if it was only to drape a blanket over him. Instead, Dean had exited the room as quietly as possible and headed upstairs, hoping that Bobby's words the night before had been true and he would have some sort of idea as to what they could do next.

"What kind o' supernatural creature do you know that could drain the blood right out of a herd o' cattle in one night?" Bobby asked from behind the Argus Leader.

"Uh…" Dean hesitated for a moment, thinking, "A chupacabra? Do they even come up this far North?"

The veteran hunter set the paper down with a snap, startling the younger man.

"A vampire," Bobby barked, his grey eyes oddly bright.

Dean frowned, "Vampire? I thought they killed people, not livestock."

"Not if they don't wanna get caught," Bobby said, "Sure, a bunch of dead cows can be suspicious but most folks will think its disease, specially if no one believes the farmer something bled all his cows."

Dean nodded slowly, not sure what Bobby was getting at.

"So… a vampire killed a herd of cattle? That's our problem how?"

The grizzled hunter leaned forward and rapped Dean on the brow with his knuckles, "Think! Vampires that don't eat people… yer brother who's against drinking human blood… see the connection?"

Dean scowled, "Okay, sure, so some vamps are trying to keep a low profile. What does that have to do with Sammy?"

Bobby sat back and sighed, rubbing his ruddy beard, "You can't stay here."

Dean stared at him, hurt and offended, "Why not?"

"It's not like I don't want you two here!" the older man exclaimed, "I'd let ya stay as long as you like if not for the fact that I've got hunters stopping in here every other day."

"It wouldn't be a problem but… I don't think many'd listen to reason if they happened to see Sam," Bobby continued in a subdued tone, "And I don't want to put him in that kind 'o danger."

Dean nodded in understanding, "Then what are we supposed to do? Where are we supposed to go? I'd love to take Sam with me and hunt, to act like everything's normal but… that's not even safe for him, is it? Not really?"

Despite the fact that the Winchesters mostly kept to themselves on hunts and rarely looked to other hunters for assistance, the young man that it would only be a matter of time before someone found out about his brother.

Bobby nodded, closed his eyes for a moment before looking back at Dean.

"Vampires, more than any other supernatural creature, are social," the grizzled hunter began, "They don't like to be alone… I guess they retained that quality from when they were human… And, I think, that maybe Sam should be with his own kind."

Dean stared at Bobby in disbelief for a long moment.

"You want Sam to go hang out with a bunch of vampires? A bunch of monsters?"

The older hunter raised his hands, "Just listen, for a moment, would you?"

"I can't have Sam here and he really can't stay with you," he reminded Dean, "So what other option is there?"

"This here proves that not all vamps are monsters," Bobby pointed at the article he'd been reading in the paper with one blunt finger, "Just like you know Sam's no monster."

Dean opened his mouth to argue, to tell Bobby he was crazy, but then he stopped.

"Where are these vamps?"

SPN

Sam's green eyes traveled from Dean to Bobby and back again, wide with shock and hurt.

"NO!" he exclaimed after they'd explained their idea; that he go to Montana to be with other vampires, ones that didn't kill people.

"I know you don't want to do this but just hear us-" Bobby began but Sam interrupted.

"You're trying to get rid of me! Both of you! I was right, I am a monster!"

"What? Sam, no, that's not what this means," Dean started, reaching out to his brother but Sam stepped back, out of reach.

"Would you just listen before jumping to conclusions?" Dean snapped angrily, "These vampires don't hurt people, Sam! They kill cattle. They are not like the ones that took you!"

Sam drew in a quick breath at the thought of Felicity and Wycliffe and narrowed his eyes at his brother.

"It ain't safe for you here," Bobby said, "Damn it, I wish it was but you know how many hunters stop by to ask for help… I'd never forgive myself if one of them tried to hurt you under my roof."

"I'd take you hunting with me and hey, we might be able to fool people for a while but it'd be nothing for a nosy hunter to find out the truth about you," Dean told his brother sadly.

"If you go live with these vampires," Dean continued, somewhat lamely, "Maybe they'll know what to do about that weird voice you've been hearing. Besides, it can't be anymore dangerous then staying here."

Sam didn't say anything for a long moment. He was scared. He didn't want to leave the security of Bobby's house, or the panic room, but he knew he couldn't hide out forever. Even as a vampire, that was no way to live.

He'd like to go with Dean, help him hunt if he really wanted him to but Sam knew that had dangers of its own now too.

"You really think they might be able help me?" Sam asked and Dean nodded, smiling nervously.

SPN

Dean gripped the Impala's steering wheel tightly, wondering if he was doing the right thing, sending his brother to go live with a group of vampires who may or may not even want him there. Dean really had no idea how vampire's created nests, if they were made up of a lead vamp and others who he or she had turned. He had no idea if the vampires were even still in Montana or if they had moved on already; Dean didn't think they were likely to stay in one place for longer than necessary to keep out of the way of hunters.

What if they don't want Sam? Dean thought nervously, what if they take one look at him and tell him to get the fuck out?

"It… It'll be okay, Dean," Sam told his brother from the backseat of the classic Chevy.

The older brother glanced over his shoulder and smiled though the gesture was more of a grimace then anything else.

"I know, Sammy," Dean commented, "It'll all work out."

"You're scared," the younger sibling muttered.

Dean glanced at Bobby, in the passenger seat, before shaking his head, "Nah, I'm fine."

"Yes," Sam insisted, "You are. I can hear your heart practically pounding in your chest."

Dean scowled, "That's… a little creepy, Sammy."

"Sorry," his brother muttered and fell silent again.

The older sibling sighed and turned his attention back to the road.

What the hell am I doing? Dean thought, driving almost eleven hours to meet up with some vampires who may or may not be a bunch of assholes.

As if reading his mind, Bobby spoke up, "Let's just keep all our fingers crossed, Son."

W

"So," Dean spoke up as the Impala passed under the green sign announcing their arrival into Red Lodge, Montana, home to just over two thousand souls, "Did that newspaper happen to say where these vampires are?"

Bobby glared across at him, "No."

Dean sighed in exasperation, "Great."

"But it did mention the name of the farmer who's cows were killed," the grizzled hunter finished, his tone irritated.

"Oh yeah?" Dean muttered, one eyebrow raised skeptically.

"We can go talk to this farmer," the veteran hunter said, "Find out exactly what happened from him and then go from there. We should be able to track the vampires' trail from the farm."

Dean frowned. He hadn't really wanted to go on a hunt; he wanted to find these vampires.

"How're you doing, Sammy?" he asked his brother, peering at his sibling in the rearview mirror.

For the past three hours or so, the younger Winchester had had his eyes closed tight, his fingers rubbing against his brow as though he had a headache.

"Yeah," Sam muttered, "Fine. When can we go talk to this farmer?"

"Uh…" Bobby hesitated, "Well, I think it best if we get a room at a motel and you rest there for a while."

Dean saw his brother peer at the older hunter, his expression hurt.

"Oh… Okay," Sam muttered, "Yeah, that's a good idea."

Dean sighed inwardly but said nothing. He knew Sam didn't want to be separated from him, not after four years, of near isolation, but Bobby was right. Sam needed to get some rest before they went to meet these vampires.

Dean scanned the main stretch of road, searching for a motel. It was almost ten o'clock at night and he was slightly worried there would be no vacancies in any of the motel's they came across.

"Ha!" Dean cried as he spotted a crimson neon sign for the Red Cedar Motel, "Look, they still have rooms."

The hunter pulled the Chevy into the parking lot and stopped the vehicle close to the office.

"I'll get us a room," Dean said and left the car before Bobby or Sam could speak.

Dean slammed the car door shut, cringing a little when he did- he hadn't meant to- and trotted to the office, not wanting to waste time.

"Hi," he greeted the woman behind the desk, "Can I get a room for the night?"

The woman, middle-aged with crow's feet at her eyes and sagging jowls, nodded and stood to take a key down form its peg behind the desk.

"One night?" she asked in a watery voice.

"Yeah," Dean answered, glancing around the office. The carpet was a deep burgundy, worn but clean, the walls a neutral cream. The desk Dean stood at was faux cherry wood and a pair of leather chairs were the colour of dark chocolate.

"Here you are," the woman caught Dean's attention, setting the key down on top of the desk.

The hunter paid for the room and grabbed the key, nodding to the woman as he left the office.

Dean stepped outside and stared at the Impala- at his brother sitting in the back of the Impala- and frowned.

Sam was leaning his forehead against the glass of the passenger window, his eyes closed. The red light from the neon sign above the office painted a bloody swath across Sam's face, making him look like a murder victim.

Sighing heavily, Dean began walking again, hoping and praying he was doing the right thing for his brother.

SPN

Sam hardly noticed the motel room as Dean ushered him inside- there was a flash of maroon carpeting, flowery wallpaper and starched, pink bed sheets- before he collapsed onto the bed furthest from the door and closed his eyes, falling into a restless slumber.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

"…I heard nothing an' the next morning when I went to milk my cows I found 'em all dead, laying in the barn like they were sleepin'."

Dairy farmer, Jed Milgaard looked from one hunter to the next, both had sympathetic expressions on their faces but he knew they must be thinking he was stark raving mad.

He had been surprised when an FBI agent and a doctor from the Centre for Disease Control had shown up at his front door at the crack of dawn. Jed had already spoken to the local police and even a State trooper and the popular opinion was that a coyote had killed his cows.

But Jed wasn't so sure; he had seen the animals, bloodless, with raw wounds on their necks. He had seen coyote attacks before and no coyote would do that to a fully-grown heifer.

"No one believes me," the farmer lamented, "I've seen cows after a coyote's been at 'em and no coyote did that to my cattle."

"And what do you think killed your cows?" Agent Kilmister asked.

Jed glanced at the young agent; he didn't seem like much but apparently he was good enough to work for the FBI. Not that the doctor was much better, Jed thought he looked more like a trucker than someone who worked for the CDC.

"Not any coyote or wild dog I've ever seen," the farmer answered, "And it wasn't any Mad Cow Disease either."

Jed sighed, "Everyone thinks I'm crazy. My own wife thinks I was just seein' things myself. She believes the cops and wants me to keep an eye out for rabid coyotes and dogs an' such."

"Is there anyway we could see yer cows?" Dr. Black asked and the farmer shook his head.

"Nope," he said, "You've come to late, they've all been incinerated."

The doctor and federal agent both frowned.

"One last question," Agent Kilmister said, leaning forwards in his seat, "Are there any old, abandoned buildings nearby, like cabins or farms?"

Jed frowned, wondering what that had to do with his dead cows but decided that maybe it was important to the two men.

He told them of the old, decrepit hunting cabin he knew of a few miles out in the pine forest on the east side of the town.

"That's all I can think of," Jed confessed, "Sorry I can't help you folks more."

Dr. Black stood and shook his head, "That's alright, you've helped us a great deal, actually."

Jed gripped the federal agent's hand.

"Oh, if you can think of anything else," Agent Kilmister turned in the doorway, "Here's my card."

Jed nodded, glancing at the small white square. He looked up, seeing the two men walk down his dirt driveway towards the black, classic Chevy Impala they had arrived in.

SPN

Bobby and Dean had decided that they couldn't wait until nightfall to go searching for the vampires, especially since they may already be long gone by now and chose instead to drive to the motel room to pick Sam up before heading to the pine forest on the town's east side.

Although the vampires weren't likely to be pleased to be disturbed in the middle of the day, Bobby insisted that if they wanted to attack they'd have a bit of the upper hand in the daytime.

Sam looked as though he was dressed for the weather Canada: he was wearing jeans and sneakers, a sweater with the hood up and a baseball cap on his head to help shade his face. His hands were shoved deep into the sweater's pockets and he kept his face turned down.

"How're you feeling, Sammy?" Dean asked as his brother climbed into the backseat of the Impala.

The younger man shrugged, "I just hope this works."

Dean bit his lip and nodded, "Me too."

W

The drive to the edge of the forest was quick and Dean was able to find a parking space in front of the start of a path used by cross-country skiers in the winter and hikers in the summer.

Before heading into the woods, Dean grabbed a duffel bag from the Impala's trunk. Even though Bobby had said the vampires weren't killing people, Dean wasn't taking any chances.

The pine forest was old and immense. The trees towered over the three hunters and cast cool, green shade across the ground strewn with needles.

Dean shivered and glanced at Bobby. The older hunter met his eyes and raised his voice, "Let's go."

They decided to stay on the path for a ways, to see how far it went and to avoid getting lost in the maze of trees. Surprisingly, they met no one else on the trail and the forest itself was eerily devoid of the sounds of humans. Dean had always hated hiking for the simple fact that it was just far too quiet. Oh, there were sounds; the wind sighing through the trees, the twittering of birds and the chirping of insects but as far as Dean knew, they could be the last people on Earth. He'd be much happier once they returned to town.

The three hunters walked in silence for almost two hours before Sam stopped abruptly.

"What's wrong, Sammy?" Dean asked nervously.

Sam didn't respond for a moment. He lifted his head, pushing the sweater's hood down and surveyed the brush ahead of them.

"I… I think I can smell them," he announced, sounding stunned as he spoke.

"The other vampires?" Dean asked and Sam nodded.

The older Winchester looked at Bobby but the older hunter was looking at Sam.

"Are they nearby, son?" the grizzled hunter asked and Sam nodded after a moment's hesitation.

"This way," Sam said and stepped off the trail and pushed his way through the underbrush.

Dean felt his heart rate begin to pick up pace.

This is it, he thought, we're going to find the vampires.

Dean just hoped that they were as friendly as their diet suggested.

SPN

Sam barely noticed his brother and Bobby struggling to keep up with him as he crashed through the trees, following the scent that was now stubbornly lodged in his nose.

Sam recognized the scent, had smelled it whenever Felicity was close enough, but now it didn't seem so bad. It was actually kind of inviting now.

Sam staggered to a halt when he entered a clearing and saw a mossy, dilapidated cabin on the other side, nearly invisible in the shade of the surrounding pines.

"Sammy!" Dean panted from beside him, "You found them!"

"Dean," Bobby hissed and Sam's brother fell silent.

"Stay here," Sam told his brother and friend, "I'll go and check it out."

"No way!" Dean argued, grabbing his shoulder, "I'm coming with you."

Sam grimaced, "What if they're not friendly?"

Dean smiled, "Then I'll have your back."

The younger man nodded, "Okay, but stay behind me."

If the vampires turned out to be dangerous, Sam wanted to make sure that Bobby and Dean were away from any fighting.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Sam began walking forward, his gaze locked on the ramshackle cabin.

SPN

John looked up blearily as he phone rang and he grabbed at it clumsily. With his free hand he motioned a passing waitress to bring him another beer and she nodded, eyeing the man with an unsavory expression on her face.

"Yeah?" John grumbled, wondering if Dean had come to his senses and was calling to tell him that the vampire who had once been his brother was dead.

Surprisingly, the person on the other end of the line was not Dean, but Jim.

"Caleb told me what happened," the pastor said without introduction, "Do you want to talk?"

John closed his eyes for a moment, "There's nothing to talk about, Jim."

"You sound terrible, John," his friend commented, ignoring what he had just said, "Have you been drinking?"

The eldest Winchester saluted the waitress with the full bottle of beer she had just handed to him, "A little."

"Where are you?" the pastor asked and John rolled his eyes around the bar, trying to recall the name of the town he was in.

"Uh… ah… Hillsboro?" John mumbled, "Yeah, Hillsboro, North Dakota."

"I think you should come to Blue Earth," Jim suggested, "I think we should talk."

John took a long drink of beer, "Why? There's nothing to talk about. I told you."

He heard the pastor sigh, "At least tell me what happened. Caleb told me Samuel had been turned into a vampire but when I pressed him for more information he just shook his head and said it was an accident."

"You want to know what happened?" John growled, "I'll tell you what happened! He didn't listen to me! He left to go to that fucking school when I told him not to and-"

Before the irate father could continue, Jim interrupted, "I think this is a conversation you and I need to have in person, don't you agree?"

John spluttered to a stop, thinking, "Yeah, yeah, you're right."

"You're not too far from me," Jim said, "About six hours. Why don't you go back to your motel and get some rest, start out in the morning, I'll be waiting for you."

John shook his head, "Nah, I'll come right now, if it means so much to you."

"But you've been drink-" the pastor began to argue but John interrupted, "You want me to come or not?"

After a long pause, Jim spoke, "Just drive carefully."

The eldest Winchester nodded and closed his phone. He downed the rest of his beer and laid a few bills on the table to pay for his drinks.

Walking cautiously, to avoid staggering, John left the bar and climbed into his truck, revving the engine and turned the vehicle's nose in the direction of Blue Earth, Minnesota.

SPN

"What are you waiting for, Sammy?" Dean's voice asked from behind him, startling him, "Knock on the door."

Sam was standing on the cabin's sagging porch, with his brother and Bobby behind him, on the equally rotted steps, trying to pluck up the courage to knock.

Lifting his hand, Sam couldn't help but feel stupid as he rapped sharply on the warped wood, the sound uncomfortably loud in the quiet forest.

There was no response. No one opened the door and no sound was heard from within the cabin.

"Maybe they've left already," Bobby suggested quietly, his tone disheartened.

Sam though, lifted his fist to knock again- because he didn't want to have had Dean drive all the way for nothing- and startled when the door was opened an inch, a dark blue eye peering out a him.

"What do you want?" an irritated male voice demanded and Sam sighed with relief.

"You're a vampire, right?" he asked, hopefully.

The eye widened, "What are you talking about? Are you crazy? There's no such thing as vampires! Piss off!"

Maybe I was wrong, Sam thought, maybe the vampires were here but they've left already.

Sam's shoulders slumped and he was about to turn around when the door was pushed open all the way and a female voice called, "Wait!"

Looking up, the younger Winchester saw a young woman with blue eyes and caramel-coloured hair standing beside the man.

"You're one of us," the woman said matter-of-factly and Sam nodded slightly, "Yeah… I am."

The blue-eyed vampire stepped out of the doorway, shaded by the slight overhang of the cabin's roof and looked Sam up and down.

"Lenore!" the other male vampire hissed but she ignored him.

"And you two? You're humans," Lenore said, raising an eyebrow at Bobby and Dean.

"They're with me," Sam answered quickly, "My brother, Dean, and our friend, Bobby."

Apparently satisfied with the answer, Lenore turned her attention back to Sam. Leaning toward the young man, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

"You're a newborn," she said and, looking somewhat surprise, "And you haven't even tasted human blood yet!"

Sam bit his lip and shook his head, "That's not going to happen."

Lenore smirked and crossed her arms over her chest, "Oh really? How are those cravings doing?"

"Look, sister, we wanted to ask you-" Dean interrupted, pushing Sam to the side.

The male vampire, who was standing close to Lenore, darted forward, fangs bared, hissing.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Dean cried, jumping back. Sam flung out an arm, keeping his brother back.

"Eli!" Lenore snapped, "Enough!"

The male vampire scowled at Bobby and the Winchesters before returning to his original position behind Lenore.

Lenore shook her head, "What do you want?"

"I was… well, Dean was wondering…" Sam mumbled, "Can I stay with you and your family?"

Lenore's eyes crinkled with amusement, her lips curving upwards.

"What happened to your sire?" she asked.

"She'd dead," Sam replied, "I killed her."

Lenore frowned, her expression shocked.

"What?" she asked, stunned.

Thinking quickly, Sam answered, "Her name was Felicity, she-"

Before the young man could continue, he saw both Lenore and Eli grimace as though an unpleasant smell had invaded their nostrils.

"Felicity," Eli snarled and spat as though the very name left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"You know her?" Dean asked, surprised.

Lenore nodded, "Of course we know of Felicity and Wycliffe. They're monsters."

Sam gazed at the vampires, jolted by their words.

"You… You don't like them?" he asked and Lenore shook her head, "It's bad enough to kill a person for their blood but Felicity and her nest they capture innocent humans and hold them for weeks while they torture them and feed on them. It's disgusting and completely unnecessary. They're the ones that make all of us look evil."

Sam looked down.

"And you say you killed her?" Lenore said, "Well, I guess you can't be that bad."

The young man looked up and the female vampire was taken aback by the expression on his face.

What had happened to him?

"I don't want to hurt anyone," Sam said quietly, "I thought that you might be able to help me control these cravings and… give me a place to stay…"

Lenore took a deep breath, thinking. Even though the other members of her family hadn't been sired by her- they had all banded together through a mutual desire to find a better way to live without harming humans- she normally didn't take in strays, especially not newborns.

Sam looked hopefully at Lenore, puppy eyes in fully force.

"Oh, what the hell?" the female said, "I want to know how you managed to get the better of Felicity."

"Really?" Sam asked in disbelief, "Thank you! Thank you, so much!"

Lenore held up a hand, "On one condition; you have to finish the transformation, you need to drink human blood."

Sam's face paled, "I… I can't…"

Lenore's expression turned sympathetic, "Look, we're not saying you have to actually feed from a live human, but you need to drink blood to finalize the transformation."

Sam shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Are you hearing that voice?" the vampire asked sharply, "Dreaming about him?"

Sam hesitated before nodding, "Y-Yeah."

"It's only going to get worse," Lenore told him, "I'm sure you know it and I hate to tell you but you don't have a choice."

Sam swallowed and glanced at his brother.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean murmured.

Where were they going to get human blood? Sam wondered.

As though he had read his brother's thoughts, Dean reached for the duffel bag in Bobby's hands, unzipping it and pulling out a clear plastic blood bag out.

"Bobby got this from Sioux Falls General, in case, you know…" Dean said apologetically and handed him the bag.

Sam took the blood from his brother and stared at it, feeling saliva gush into his mouth and his fangs slip down over his human teeth. He looked up and saw Lenore gazing hungrily at it.

"Go on," the female vampire encouraged, "It's really not as bad as it seems."

Dean's voice spoke up, "At least you're not chewing on some poor smuck's neck, Sammy."

Sighing in resignation, the younger Winchester nodded, "Yeah… You're right. You're always right, Dean."

"Sammy-" Dean began but Sam held up a hand, "Don't look, Dean, please."

Sam heard his brother and Bobby retreat down the porch steps to give him some privacy. Taking a deep breath, Sam pulled off the cap from the tube on the bag that prevented the blood from leaking out. As soon as he did that the coppery, salty scent of the blood seemed to fill the air. Hunching his shoulders, very aware of both Lenore and Eli watching him, Sam put the end of the tube in his mouth and pursed his lips, the tube acting like a straw and the young man could almost imagine he was drinking out of a juice box.

The blood was lukewarm but Sam didn't mind, it tasted divine. Within seconds the bag was empty and Sam breathed a sigh of relief, the headache that had been plaguing him and the incessant voice finally quieted.

"Sammy?" He turned to look at his brother, "I'm okay, Dean."

Dean smiled nervously.

Sam was somewhat surprised to find that nothing amazing or spectacular had occurred as he finished the transformation; he didn't feel any different then before. Sure, the pain in his head and the voice had vanished but that was all that had occurred.

He glanced at Lenore and Eli.

"That's it?" Sam asked the two vampires before sudden agony ripped through him and he cried out.

"Sam!" Dean shouted and he felt his brother grab his arm.

"It's alright!" he heard Lenore cry but her voice sounded far away and he fell to his knees, groaning in pain.

Sam didn't know what was happening and he was scared; was something wrong? Was he dying?

As soon as it had begun, the agony vanished, leaving Sam shaky, skin beaded with sweat, panting dully.

He looked up blearily, Dean's hand gripping his arm tightly, his expression questioning.

"That was supposed to happen," Lenore said, "Startling isn't it?"

Sam nodded, swallowing thickly. Carefully, with Dean's help, he stood, brushing his bangs away from his forehead.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean asked, his tone concerned.

Sam nodded, "Y-Yeah… I'm fine."

Lenore smiled wanly at him, "Now you're officially one of us. Welcome to the club."

The young man didn't return the expression, Lenore's last words similar to ones he had heard Felicity speak upon observing her mate, Wycliffe, turn one of their victims.

"So, Sam's A-OK to join you?" Dean asked the female vampire and Lenore nodded.

"We'd love to have him," the vampire said earnestly.

Dean looked at Sam and grinned. The younger Winchester guessed that the more vampires Lenore could gather together who didn't kill innocent people, the better.

"I guess this is it," Dean said and Sam nodded, suddenly reluctant to have his brother leave.

"Dean… maybe…" he stammered, "I mean… I drank human blood… so… maybe I could…"

"Sammy," his brother said and laid a hand against the nape of his neck, "I know… but it's still not safe for you with me or with Bobby. I wish it was, you know that but I'm not abandoning you, okay? I'll come visit you, I promise. I'll call you every day."

Sam nodded, biting his lip. Dean dug one hand into his pocket and pulled a cell phone out, "Here, I got this while I was shopping for clothes."

Sam took the phone and put it in the pocket of his sweater. He felt tears well up in his eyes.

"I'm not going to give up, Sammy," Dean continued, "I'll keep searching for a way to change you back. I promise you, one day you'll be human again."

Sam hugged his brother tightly, the tears in his eyes overflowing.

"Thank you, Dean," he whispered, "For everything."

He felt Dean's arm wrap around his back wanted nothing more then to melt into his big brother's embrace.

Instead, Sam pulled back, blinking moisture from his eyes.

Turning around, Sam saw that the two vampires had vanished, giving them some privacy. Lenore returned and smiled, "Come on inside."

Sam nodded, following her inside, glancing over his shoulder at his brother, smiling.


	20. Chapter Twenty

Sam moved as silent as a shadow, his gaze locked on the fat, brown cow grazing a few feet away from him.

The animal's ears flicked around, catching the smallest sound but the cow didn't appear anxious at all. It continued to chew its cud slowly, calm.

Sam knew the others were nearby, hunting their own prey. The night was mild for autumn despite the carpet of leaves covering the ground. Lenore said they were lucky they had warm weather; it was harder to hunt in the winter, even with many animals housed in barns. Farmers often checked on their livestock more often during the winter, to give them more feed and make sure they didn't freeze so the chances of being spotted increased.

At first the idea of attacking and killing a cow had made Sam uncomfortable, he'd hadn't been a big fan of meat even when he'd been human, sticking to chicken or fish mostly, but there wasn't much choice in the matter. Lenore's family had taught Sam how to sneak up on the livestock and just where to bite so at least the animal didn't suffer much.

Sam stopped when he heard a branch snap behind him and the cow he was watching lifted her head, lowing loudly.

With a burst of energy, the young man rushed at the animal, fangs slipping down over human teeth, mouth open wide. The cow stared at him, uncertain if he was a threat or not. It waited too long to decide. Sam bit down hard on the cow's neck, his hands grabbing the animal's stocky head to hold it still. The cow lowed again and tried to back up, to escape but its lifeblood was already draining away and it was weakening quickly. The cow's legs buckled and Sam lowered himself to the ground along with the animal so that it wouldn't drag him down.

A minute or so later Sam looked up over the still-warm body of the cow he'd killed, using the back of his hand to wipe his face. He spotted Claudia a few meters away, still feeding on her fallen cow. He knew that the others were somewhere close by and wasn't worried. He knew they were looking out for him as he was looking out for them.

One corner of Sam's mouth turned up, it was funny to think of Lenore's small, ragtag group as a family. Even among vampires, the term didn't exactly fit. Lenore and Eli had known each other for ages; both had been sired by the same vampire, and had remained close even after hunters had destroyed their original nest. They were the only two to escape.

Claudia had been the next family member they'd picked up. Sam didn't know much about Claudia, she never spoke much and when she did he couldn't place her accent. She appeared very young, only fifteen or sixteen to the casual observer, but there was something very matronly and motherly about her. Claudia was often the one to wake up in the middle of the day if Sam had a nightmare, wrapping her arms around him as though he was a child, rocking him and murmuring softly in her native language.

Pierce was the fourth member of Lenore's small nest. Like Eli he was tall- though not as tall as Sam- barrel-chested and heavily muscled. Although he looked intimidating, he had a keen sense of humour and often wore his heart on his sleeve.

They had all accepted and welcomed Sam into the family as though he were a long-lost brother returning home.

They had all been interested and anxious to hear Sam's story and after much prodding and encouraging, he had told them of his four years of captivity and his transformation into a vampire at Felicity's hand.

More than anything, more than his imprisonment and torture in Nevada, Sam hated thinking about the moment Felicity had fed him her blood, changing his life forever and the actions he'd taken against her and the vampires she called friends…

…Sam felt the vibrations of Felicity's footfalls as she let herself into the stall and knelt down beside him, her shadow looming over him.

Sam forced his swollen eyes to open, his head rolling to the side to take in the vampire's smiling face.

Sam's heartbeat quickened fearfully. Pulling his cracked, dry lips apart, he groaned in protest, the word not fully articulated in his parched throat, "Nuuuhhh."

Felicity acted as though she heard nothing, raising her left wrist and digging a nail from her right hand into the soft flesh. Sam watched mutely as the vampire lowered her arm, a crimson line bisecting the pale skin of her wrist.

A bead of blood welled up against the self-inflicted wound and Felicity's smile grew. Sam closed his eyes tightly and tried to squirm away though he was too weak to move even an inch.

Opening his eyes again, Sam watched helplessly as one ruby bead dropped from Felicity's wrist and landed on his chin. Shakily, Sam tried to lift his hand to wipe it away but more blood was leaking down Felicity's arm, poised to drop.

Sam tried to spit out the blood that landed in his mouth but it was too dry and he was forced to swallow reflexively, ingesting the blood.

"There," Felicity said from above him, "That wasn't so bad, now was it?"

Sam closed his eyes for a moment, feeling a strange surge of energy and power tingling through his body. His fatigue and illness washed away in a tsunami wave of strength and he looked up again, right into Felicity's smug face.

"Welcome to the fam-" the female vampire began mockingly but her words were cut short when Sam reached up and gripped her throat tightly, squeezing.

Sam pulled himself up, hand fisted against the female vampire's neck. Felicity choked, clawing at his arm but Sam refused to release her. For the first time since he'd met her, he saw genuine fear in her cold, blue eyes.

His gaze flicked momentarily to the other vampire who had been watching and she backed away from the stall, hands held out in a warding-off gesture.

Returning his attention back to Felicity, the monster who had made the past four years of his life a living hell, Sam continued to clench his fist tighter and tighter around her neck, intent of crushing her throat.

Hot blood gushed over his hand and wrist and his fingers tore through the cartilage and tissue of Felicity's neck, nearly decapitating her in the process. Sam unclenched his hand and watched the vampire collapse to the barn floor, choking on her own blood. Reaching down with his bloodstained fingers, Sam grabbed Felicity's hair, twisting it around his hand and pulled, hearing bones creak and sinew groan. He wasn't even thinking; all he cared about was killing. He didn't stop until he heard a wet, snapping sound and he raised Felicity's head to his face, gazing at her glassy eyes before tossing it aside.

Chest heaving with rage, Sam wasn't sated yet, not even close. He gazed around the barn until he caught sight of the second vampire, hurrying towards the front of the outbuilding and began walking after her…

…Despite Sam's feelings of guilt over Felicity's death and the death of the vampires from Colorado, Lenore and the rest of her family were not surprised at the violence he had exhibited.

"It's always like that at first," Lenore assured Sam, "That sudden rush of power… you just don't know what to do with it. Normally, your sire would help you through it but after what she did to you, I don't blame you for what killing her."

Sam looked down, not sure how he should feel about that.

"I'm not like that," he muttered, "Honestly, I didn't even like hunting monsters, that's why I left for Stanford in the first place."

Lenore nodded and Claudia put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Well," Pierce said confidently, "You've got us now. We won't steer you wrong, Newborn."

Sam scowled. Pierce had taken to calling him 'newborn' all the time as some kind of nickname and it made Sam feel like a little kid. Not that he said anything to Pierce, he was sure if he did it would only encourage the other vampire.

Sam was surprised to find Lenore and her family so understanding and supportive- exactly what a family should be- and wished not for the first time that his own father could be.

W

"Come along," Claudia called, catching Sam's attention and pulling him from his thoughts.

He followed the female vampire as they walked through the paddock towards the other three members of their nest.

"We should head out," Lenore suggested, once they were all assembled, "This is the only farm for miles and I don't want us overstay our welcome."

Eli nodded, serious. He looked up, across the field as though he expected a horde of machete-wielding hunters to come screaming through the fence at any moment.

Lenore looked at Sam and the others; no one had any objections. To Sam, it was a very-easy going way to live. Stop in a town for a day or two, feed and then leave. They never killed more animals then they had to and they rarely actually went into town. Pierce was a genius at finding places to stay for the couple of days they were in town, usually an abandoned house or disused cabin, all of them packing very lightly. Sam didn't even have any ID with him, it was long gone anyway, back when he'd lost his duffle in Elko, Nevada and the only thing in his possession- other then the clothes he was wearing- was the cell phone Dean had given him. Not that Sam minded the minimalist style of living, it wouldn't be logical to have to bring along tons of luggage. Not when they walked everywhere.

Sam had asked Lenore about the fact that they at least didn't have a car but the female vampire had just shook her head, saying that they were always trying to stay under the radar of hunters and it was far easier to slip into the trees at the side of the road while on foot rather then hide a large vehicle. Sam guessed she was right, besides, walking wasn't bad, he didn't tire as quickly as he would have when he'd been human and often the small band of vampires would manage to get several miles away from any town or city they were leaving in a single night.

Claudia walked right beside Sam as the five vampires made their way across the field and onto the side of the road. No one asked where they were going since it didn't really matter. With no map to guide them, there was an odd sense of adventure whenever they decided to move on.

"Have you heard from Dean?" Lenore asked, glancing over her shoulder at Sam.

The young man nodded, "Yeah, he called just before we went out to feed."

The female vampire smiled, "How is he?"

Sam shrugged, "He's still at Bobby's. He's still trying to find a cure."

Lenore's lips pursed.

Sam knew he should stop talking about the possibility of finding a cure; it only made the others uncomfortable.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"Don't be," Lenore told him, "You're lucky you have someone looking out for you like that."

Sam nodded, feeling slightly better. He wondered if Dean would ever find a way to turn him human again, and, if he did, would it also work on Lenore and the others? Would they even want to be human again?

The young man gave his head a shake and smiled when Claudia began to sing quietly.

SPN

Jim greeted his friend curtly as he ushered John inside.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked the hunter and John nodded, "What've you got?"

"Tea or root beer," the pastor informed him and almost smiled when John cringed, "Uh… root beer."

Jim nodded and headed into the rectory's small kitchen while John made his way to the living room. Opening the fridge and grabbed a bottle of soda, the pastor sighed.

He had been thinking about his phone conversation with John since he'd hung up and what exactly he was going to say to the stubborn hunter.

Since he barely knew any details, Jim decided he'd have John tell him what had happened to his youngest son. Of course, John's version of events was bound to be convoluted and Jim would only receive a sincere retelling from Sam himself, unfortunately the young man was not there so the pastor would have to work with what he had.

Maybe John had sobered up enough to not be a complete ass when he told Jim how Sam had ended up as a vampire.

Closing the fridge door, Jim met his friend in the living room. John was sitting on the old, blue couch, hands between his knees and head bowed.

"How're you feeling, John?" Jim asked as he handed the hunter the bottle of root beer.

The father shrugged as he took the offered beverage, "Better then I did in Hillsboro."

The pastor nodded and sat down across from him in his favourite armchair.

"What happened, John?" Jim asked, "How was Sam turned?"

The pastor hadn't seen the Winchesters- John or his boys- since the summer before Dean turned fourteen. Although Jim had heard from other hunters about John's exploits since then, he'd heard nothing about either Sam or Dean and had thought they were both with their father.

"You want me to start from the beginning?" John asked, twisting the cap off the bottle of root beer and taking a quick drink of the soda.

"Please," Jim encouraged and John set the bottle down on the coffee table, sighing.

"Sam… he got into college," the father began, slowly, as though carefully picking his words, "Stanford out in California."

Jim couldn't help but smile at the news, no matter how old; Sam had always been a keen and eager learner and the pastor had had a feeling he was meant for great things.

"I didn't want him to go," the father continued, "But would he listen? No, of course not. He was set in his ways. He was going to go to school and I could just piss off."

Jim said nothing. He had a feeling that Sam would have tried to talk to John about his decision, even if it was after he had already made it.

"He didn't care that he was leaving Dean and me," John kept talking, "He didn't even tell us about it until the night he planned on going. Didn't even have the courtesy to say something earlier. Only thinking of himself."

"And did Sam go?" Pastor Jim asked and John nodded, "Oh, yeah, he went. Didn't even look back either."

"Then what happened?" Jim asked, trying to get the story moving along.

"He never made it to school," the hunter told him and Jim's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"A nest of vampires got him out in Nevada," John ground out.

"I told him it wasn't safe to go!" the father snarled angrily, "I told him it was dangerous! He knew what was out there and yet he went on his merry way!"

"The vampires caught Sam and then you rescued him," Jim prompted, wondering why it had taken four years for it to come out that the younger Winchester had been turned; John and Dean must have been very good at hiding it from curious hunters.

John shook his head and laughed humourlessly, "No, no, he stayed there… for four fucking years those animals had him."

Jim's mouth opened in shock. How could that be? Vampires only kept their victims for a few days- a week at the most- before disposing of them. There was no way Sam was with vampires for four years.

"These bastards," John told him, "Ran a hotel. They'd lure tourists in and keep 'em locked up in cages. Sam said that they seemed to like the taste of his blood so they didn't kill him or turn him."

Jim shook his head in disbelief. The young man had been held prisoner by vampires, fed on by them, for four years?

"Didn't you or Dean realize something wasn't right when you called Sam and he didn't answer," Jim asked, "Or when he never called you?"

It was John's turn to shake his head, "Sam didn't want to talk to me, that's what I thought. Not with the way he left. He abandoned us, Jim, decided that school was more important to him then saving innocent people."

Maybe Jim could understand John's lack of interest in making sure his younger son got to college in one piece and was actually enjoying his time there… but Dean, surely Dean would have called Sam?

But again, Jim was surprised to find that Dean hadn't tried to contact his younger brother in all of the four years, not until the day John failed to show up after a hunt.

"Don't know why he was panicking," the father grumbled, "I knew what I was doing."

"So Dean went to Stanford to fetch Sam and found he had never shown up for any classes?" Jim asked and John nodded.

"Did he try to call you and tell you about Sam?"

Again, John nodded.

"And you said…"

"I was busy," John told him, "I didn't have time for that. I was on a very time-sensitive case, Jim."

"Who actually helped Dean rescue Sam?" the pastor asked, trying to keep his own emotions out of this discussion.

"Uh… Bobby Singer, Caleb Blacker, Gordon Walker and a friend of Bobby's I don't know," John answered.

Jim sat back; John hadn't even been there to help rescue his youngest son from monsters.

"Oh, don't look at me like that!" John told him, "I had a lead on Mary's killer and I had to take it!"

The father went on to tell Jim about how Sam had been taken to a doctor friend of Bobby's to recover from his injuries, his subsequent recapture and his transformation into a vampire, all of it second-hand information because John had been there for none of it.

"You weren't there," Jim said quietly, struggling to keep his feelings in check.

"Dean filled me in on Sam's condition," John assured him, "Left a dozen… more… messages on my phone."

The pastor shook his head, "You weren't there because you were trying to find the monster that killed your wife twenty-two years ago."

John stopped talking and stared at his friend, not knowing what to say.

"Jim," he said softly, "I have to avenger Mary's-"

Suddenly the pastor looked up, his brown eyes burning, "Your wife is dead! Your son is not!"

John sat back, stunned that Jim had yelled at him.

"John," the pastor continued, "I understand your feelings of revenge, I do, as a hunter but… killing Mary's murderer isn't going to bring her back. Sam, however, is not dead, he is still very much alive and from what you've just told me, could really use your support right now."

The father felt as though he had been kicked in the gut. Jim's words cut through him but he also couldn't deny them. He knew that finding the monster that had taken Mary away wouldn't change the fact that she was gone but… he couldn't let go of his need for revenge.

And Sam… Damn it! Why couldn't things always be black and white? Why couldn't Sam be a monster to be put down? Why did he still have to look like John's little boy?

The father was startled when he felt tears suddenly burn in his eyes and stared helplessly at his friend.

"I yelled at him," John lamented, recalling the awful things he'd said to Sam the night he left, calling his son selfish and immature for wanting to leave a life that would eventually kill him.

"I was so angry," the father continued, shoulders shaking, "I wanted him to go, I told him I didn't want see him again… that if he left he shouldn't bother coming back…"

Both Winchesters had said things they regretted that night, trying to hurt each other and while Sam had sought out his father's forgiveness and comfort, John had still been blinded by rage to see that.

If Sam really was a monster, John knew he'd be dead already if his son wanted him that way. No, he was wrong. Not everything was black and white. Just as Dean had said, Sam had hurt no one, and if he had, it hadn't been his fault; it was the vampire blood in his veins.

If John wanted to blame someone for his son, he should be blaming the bitch that turned Sam in the first place.

"John," Jim said quietly, drawing the father's attention back to him, "There's still time to make things right with Sam."

The elder Winchester nodded, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

He gazed at Jim with wide eyes, "Why did it take you giving me a lecture to get my act together?"

The pastor gave a wan smile, "I know you, John. I know you love your sons but that you've also got a temper and I just needed to cut through that."

The father nodded and stood, "I need to call Dean and apologize… and I need to call Sam."


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

Dean answered his phone as soon as he heard the familiar chords to 'Smoke On The Water', expecting to hear Sam's voice on the other end.

It wasn't Dean's brother however who answered, it was his father.

"Hello Dean," John greeted cautiously.

"Dad," the son answered, meeting Bobby's gaze as he spoke to his father.

"How… How are you?" John asked.

"Fine," Dean answered, "What about you? You sound strange."

"I'm alright," his father answered, "I just… can I talk to Sam for a moment?"

Dean narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "Why?"

"I wanted to apologize," John informed him, "For what I said earlier. Is he around, can you put him on the phone?"

"No," Dean said with finality.

He heard his father sigh, "Are you still at Bobby's?"

Dean looked to the grizzled hunter again, "I am."

"Where's Sam?"

"Not here," Dean told him.

The older hunter was silent for a moment and Dean spoke again:

"I'm not going to tell you where Sammy is so you can go and kill him."

"I don't want to kill him!" John replied, aghast, "All I wanted to do was talk to him."

"Are you drinking?" Dean asked, wondering why his father was suddenly acting so strange.

"I was," John answered, "But I'm sober now. Jim knocked some sense into me."

"Hmm," Dean hummed, not completely believing his father.

"Dean…" John said hesitantly, "I want… I need to apologize to you. You were trying to get in touch with me when you found out Sam was in trouble and I ignored you. I should have called… No, I should have dropped everything and gone to help you. Sam might still be human now if I'd pulled my head out of my ass and huh-helped you get him b-back."

Dean's eyebrows rose in surprise as his father apologized, his voice even cracking near the end.

"I c-can't bring M-Mary back," John continued, to Dean's astonishment, "I c-can't save h-her but maybe I c-could have saved S-Sam… and I didn't… I was to focused on r-revenge and now… now…"

"Dad," the older son spoke up, "Don't. You were just doing what you thought was right."

"It wasn't right, Dean," John argued, and although Dean couldn't see it, he was smiling grimly from where he stood in Jim's parlour, "I was mixed up. But never again. You and Sam are the most important things in my life and I remember that now."

Dean swallowed thickly, not sure what to say. Sure his father's speech sounded heartfelt but John could be a good actor when he needed to be. Dean just wasn't about to forget everything his father had said about Sam and welcome the man back with open arms.

"Are you serious?" he asked his father, "Really serious, I mean? No going back?"

John assured his eldest that he meant every word.

Dean wiped a hand down his face wearily, "Okay. Let me talk to Sammy first and then I'll see what we can do."

John agreed with his son's terms.

"But if you want to talk with Sam," Dean told him, "I'm going to be right there. If you even so much as suggest something that I don't like, I'm going to kick your ass and you'll never see Sammy again. Got it?"

John, sounding a little shocked at the rules, agreed once again with Dean.

"Thank you, Dean," the father said, "For giving me another chance."

"I'm not doing this for you," his son informed him, "I'm doing this for Sam. You have no idea how much he's missed you these past four years."

John nodded although Dean couldn't see him and closed his cell phone. He looked at Jim with red-rimmed eyes.

"Do you have anything stronger then tea?" he asked and the pastor nodded, heading into the kitchen and returning with a bottle of Jack Daniels and two coffee mugs.

SPN

Sam woke with a gasp, his long hair plastered to his brow with sweat. Glancing around, he remembered where he was, a tiny cabin in the woods in Washington State.

He wasn't in Nevada anymore.

Yellow sunlight peeked through the tightly drawn curtains across the windows and Sam guessed that it was close to noon hour. The closed-up cabin was dimly lit but Sam's keen eyes could easily pick out the shapes of the other vampires, resting before nightfall.

He knew that he should really try and get some more sleep before night fell but all thoughts of rest were erased from his mind as adrenaline pumped through his veins.

Instead of lying back down and closing his eyes, Sam sat up; legs pulled against his chest and wrapped his arms around his shins, resting one cheek against his knees.

W

"Are you sure?" Lenore asked Sam that very evening when the young man had said that instead of hunting, he'd like to go into the nearby town of Stony Creek.

"Yeah," Sam answered tiredly, "I just need some time on my own."

"One of us can go with you," Pierce suggested and Sam sighed, "That kind of defeats the purpose of being on my own, doesn't it?"

Lenore frowned, "I just don't like the idea of us separating."

Sam rolled his eyes, "I'll be fine. I can take care of myself you know."

Claudia smiled, "Of course you can."

"Alight," Lenore agreed, "But be back before dawn."

Sam promised he would even though her request went without saying.

"I'll see you soon," the young man said and walked down the leaf-strewn path away from the cabin, towards the road that lead to the town.

Sam resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder at his friends. He would be fine. The town of Stony Creek was pretty isolated and by now most of its residents would be asleep in their beds.

The young man swallowed the lump that formed in his throat; it was usually only Dean who really cared about him and having Lenore and the others show concern for his welfare made Sam's heart ache. Although he had only been with the small band of vampires for a few weeks, he had grown to care about them as though they were his own family members.

The trek to town took only a half-hour and Sam was delighted to see the lights still on in Stony Creek's only coffee shop.

Sam stepped into the brightly lit shop and made his way to the counter where a young barista wearing a green apron stood, smiling in a friendly way.

"Hi, what can I get for you?" she asked as Sam took a moment to look at his options.

Lenore had told Sam that vampires could still eat regular food, that it wouldn't hurt them, but that most embraced their new lifestyle and simply forgot the joy of a good meal. Sam decided that a treat every now and then would be all right. Besides, the scent of coffee beans and steamed milk somehow made his mouth water in anticipation still.

Sam placed his order and moved to the far end of the counter to wait for his drink. He leaned against the faux-marble counter and stared out at the other patrons of the coffee shop. There were a couple of college students; a girl wearing a purple peasant blouse and a denim skirt reading a copy of Dracula and a boy wearing a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black-rimmed glasses, a grey toque and tight jeans. The boy was typing furiously on a laptop computer, probably blogging about something or other, his nose nearly touching the screen. A middle-aged woman wearing a navy blue trench coat and reading the paper was the only other customer.

"Here's your drink," the barista said and Sam turned, thanked her and found a place to sit.

As Sam passed the girl reading Bram Stoker, she lowered her book and smiled at him. The young man blushed and took a seat at a booth near the back.

Sighing, Sam propped his elbows on the table and held his head in his hands for a moment.

He looked up when he heard footsteps- and a heartbeat- approach and saw the college student.

"Hey," she said and took a seat across from Sam.

"Uh… hi," he muttered, aware that his fangs had slipped down over his human teeth.

"I haven't seen you in town," the girl said conversationally, "Are you new?"

Sam nodded, trying to block out the sound of the girl's beating heart.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked suddenly, leaning forward, "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable… if you want me to leave I can-"

The girl stood halfway up but Sam shook his head, "No! Uh… no, sorry. Yeah, I'm new… just passing through really. Not staying long."

Sam knew he was rambling and stopped talking abruptly.

The girl sat back down slowly, "I just thought you looked kind of lonely."

Sam's eyebrows knitted together; he looked lonely?

The girl quickly took a sip of her drink, glancing out the window, clearly unsure of what to say next.

"I'm Sam," the young man said to try and put the girl at ease.

She smiled, "Veronica."

"That's a nice name," Sam told her and the sighed, "No, it isn't. I don't like it Makes me thing of that character from those old Archie comics, you know?"

Sam smiled, "Really, its neat."

Veronica shrugged and took another sip of her drink.

"So… uh… you like vampires?" Sam asked, struggling for something to say.

It felt strange and good to talk to someone who didn't know anything about him, who didn't know who or what he was, not like Dean or Bobby or Lenore and her family. He could be anyone he wanted to be, if only for a little while, with Veronica.

The girl smiled, "Yeah… they are so cool… sexy and mysterious and evil."

Sam screwed his face up into a smile but didn't really feel like it; Veronica didn't notice.

"But only the ones like these," the girl tapped the book with one finger, "Not the Twilight vampires everyone's going gaga over."

Veronica made a disgusted face and Sam looked at her in confusion. He must have missed this Twilight thing while he'd been in Nevada.

"Hey! Are you alright?" Veronica said suddenly, reaching out to touch Sam's wrist.

The young man pulled his hand away and looked up to see hurt in the girl's eyes.

"Sorry," he muttered and cast his eyes downward.

"No," Veronica said, "Look, if something's bothering you… I'm pretty good at listening…"

Sam looked up at the girl and shook his head, "No, I can't… I have to go…"

Standing up, Sam saw the uncertain and pained look on the girl's face and he felt bad but he couldn't keep doing this. Something might happen and he already had enough on his conscience to weigh him down.

Without looking back, Sam left the coffee shop and walked briskly down the sidewalk, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets.

He shouldn't have come into town. It was a bad idea. He couldn't just forget about everything that had happened and act like he was normal. He should have known better.

Checking his watch, Sam saw that only fifty minutes had passed since he'd left Lenore and the others in the woods, he had more then enough time to catch up with them and hunt.

The young man jumped and fumbled in his pocket when his cell phone began to ring and he answered it:

"Hey Dean."

"How're you doing, Sammy?" his brother asked and Sam shrugged before answering, telling his brother that he was alright.

"Good," the older sibling said distractedly, "Hey, are you still in Stony Creek?"

Sam told him he was. Sam always called Dean to let him know where he was, mostly to put his older brother at ease.

"Why?" Sam asked curiously.

"Uh…" Dean hesitated, "You're not going to believe this but Dad called earlier today to apologize."

Sam didn't say anything for a moment.

"And…" he said, encouraging Dean to continue.

"He," Dean replied, "He sounded sincere, Sammy."

Tears suddenly burned behind Sam's eyes and he swallowed thickly, "Really? He meant it?"

"I think so," Dean told him, "He wanted to talk to you but I said no. I didn't know how you'd react so I thought I'd call first."

Sam nodded even though his brother couldn't see, "You really think he means it?"

"I'm not just going to let him back into the fold," Dean told him, "He's going to have to prove he's sorry and that he fucked up. Okay? After all that stuff he said about you, I'm not just going to forgive him. Are you?"

Sam bit his lip; he had had four years to think about the fight he had had with his father the night he left, intending to go to college and he had forgiven John for all the horrible things he'd said and now… with all the cruel things he'd said to Sam just weeks ago, saying that he was a monster, that he needed to be put down, Sam wanted so badly to forgive his father and have his Dad back, but the words had cut him deeply. John had been one of the few people Sam thought he could count on to support him and instead he had stabbed him in the back.

"I don't know," Sam told Dean, "Not just yet. But maybe."

"Okay," his older brother said, "I'll let him know it's alright if he wants to talk to you. I won't give him your number, though, I want to be right there when he sees you."

Sam nodded.

"Alright, Sammy," Dean finished, "I'll talk to you later."

"Bye Dean," the younger man replied and closed his cell phone.

He was in the woods now and easily picked his way across the leaf-strewn forest floor, moving as silently as a shadow.

W

Something was wrong.

Sam sensed it as soon as he saw the cabin.

He stopped in the middle of the trail and sniffed the air, trying to figure out why he was feeling so uneasy.

There were no farms in the area so Lenore and her family had to hunt the animals that lived in the forest. Fortunately there were still deer in the woods and they had spent the past couple of nights catching them instead of their usual fare of cattle. The deer, more aware of predators then cows, had been more of a challenge for Sam but he'd quickly got the hang of hunting them, staying downwind and creeping up inch by inch until he was close enough to attack.

Although Sam knew Lenore and the others could still be out feeding, the silence that greeted him didn't feel like the silence of an empty space.

He briefly wondered if Pierce had convinced the others to hide with the intent on jumping out to scare him upon his return but Sam quickly dismissed that idea. He was certain Lenore would stamp out that prank as immature and unfunny.

Then why did it feel so bad?

It was then that Sam caught the coppery scent of blood on the air. The young man's heart skipped a beat and he lurched towards the cabin, fear growing in the pit of his stomach.

"Lenore!" Sam cried, "Claudia!"

Glancing down, Sam felt his heart sink as he caught sight of dark splashes of liquid on the leaves on the path leading to the cabin.

"Pierce!" Sam called, louder now, "Eli!"

As he approached the cabin proper, Sam saw the same dark liquid smeared on the wooden railing, as if someone had spread it with their hand as they moved up the stairs.

"No," Sam whispered, "No, no, please."

The cabin door was ajar and at first Sam thought it had just been closed improperly but, looking down, he saw one pale, still forearm lying in the gap.

"Lenore!" Sam cried and shoved the door open, choking back a sob as the door pushed against a large, unmoving barrier.

The vampire's headless body lay just beyond the threshold of the cabin, one arm reaching out towards the doorway as though in a final attempt at escape.

Blood had soaked into the wooden floor of the cabin, the scent of it cloying.

"Claudia! Claudia, where-" Sam called frantically, stopping dead when he caught sight of the second female vampire's body draped across the table where she had been sitting, blood dripping sluggishly onto the floor.

The young man staggered forward, eyes wide and blurring with tears, stomach clenching.

Where were Pierce and Eli?

Sam turned to leave the cabin, search for the last two members of Lenore's family- maybe they'd escaped- when a strong hand on his shoulder stopped him.

Before Sam could react, he felt a pinch on his neck and fire seemed to flow through his veins instead of blood and he collapsed to the floor, groaning in agony, unable to move.


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

"…Think he's waking up…"

Sam groaned in pain. His head was pounding and felt like his brain had been scooped out and replaced with a bowling ball. His limbs were as responsive as wet noodles and his mouth was dry as sandpaper, a metallic taste coating his tongue.

A strong hand grabbed Sam's hair and lifted his head up, straining his neck. The young man hissed threateningly, fangs bared and stared at the monster that had murdered his friends.

Gordon Walker looked right back at him.

The hunter released Sam's head but thankfully, the young man was able to hold it up and he quickly took in his surroundings. He was sitting across the table from Claudia's headless corpse. Gordon had tied his arms to the arms of a chair with thick, coarse rope- his legs restrained the same way at the to the legs of the same chair- before covering it with duct tape. Sam glanced down and saw that his arms, from wrist to elbow were encased in the sticky, grey tape. Struggling, he realized that his ankles, all the way up to his knees had been mummified in the tape as well.

"That should hold you for a while," Gordon told him, "Long enough for what I have in mind, anyway."

"What… what did you do to me?" Sam growled at the dark-skinned hunter.

"I just gave you a shot of dead man's blood," the hunter smirked, "Oh… Bobby didn't tell you about dead man's blood?"

Sam snarled and tried to pry his arms free from the chair but he was too weak to do so.

"It's like a tranquilizer for vampires," Gordon informed him, "Makes them as weak as kittens."

Sam's head snapped to the side, eyes narrowed when he heard the sound of a chuckle coming from near the door. There was another person in the cabin with them. Sam could see a smaller man, bald, with the beginnings of stubble on his chin. He had a machete in one hand and a gun in the other.

"Why?" Sam asked, swallowing thickly, "Why did you kill them? They weren't hurting anybody."

The young man growled as Gordon sat his elbow on his shoulder, one hand propping his chin up, "Unlike some people who call themselves hunters, I don't see shades of grey. It's all black and white to me. There's monsters and there's people so if you're not one, you're the other. I don't care if you haven't fed on a human, you're still a monster, you could just as easily change your mind and I can't take that chance… with anyone."

Sam was quiet for a moment, "So you're going to kill me for not other reason other then that I'm a vampire?"

"I think he's got the idea, Gordon!" the hunter's friend called from the doorway and the dark-skinned man grinned toothily.

"It's nothing personal," he insisted, "I'm sure you were a nice kid and all but, well, you know…"

Gordon trailed off and left Sam's side. The young man turned his head, trying to see what the hunter was doing, his heart pounding in his chest.

"I haven't hurt anyone!" Sam cried, "I didn't even want this!"

"Sorry kid," Gordon said, not sounding sorry at all, "But a job's a job."

The young man stared as Gordon stood up, holding a pair of pliers in one hand.

"What are you going to do with those?" Sam croaked, unable to hide the fear in his voice.

"These?" Gordon said, indicating the pliers, "You thought I was just going to cut your head off like I did to your friends and be done with it?"

The hunter chuckled in a most unsettling way and Sam began struggling again in vain to escape the confines of the chair.

"No," Gordon continued, "I thought I'd spend a bit more time with you. All work and no play makes Gordon a very dull boy indeed and it's been so long since I've had the chance to play."

Sam stared wide-eyed at the hunter.

He's completely insane, Sam thought with mounting horror.

"First," the dark-skinned hunter said, "I'm going to rip out all your fangs, one by one, and then I'm going to pump you full of so much dead man's blood you won't remember your own name and then I'm going to cut your head off, nice and slow."

Gordon sat down on the table in front of Sam and leaned forward, grabbing his jaw in one hand while he held the pliers out in the other, "Let's get started then. I have a feeling this may take a while."

Sam twisted his head from side to side, trying to force Gordon to release his jaw but the hunter had a strong grip and the effects of the dead man's blood had yet to wear off.

Instinctively, Sam opened his mouth and hissed, fangs bared. Gordon took the opening and used the pliers to grab one of the young man's fangs, beginning to tug on the tooth ruthlessly.

"Gordon!" the dark-skinned hunter's friend suddenly called, "There's a car coming up this way!"

Gordon looked up sharply as the glow of headlights washed over the front of the cabin and inside like searchlights.

"Damn it," he growled and released Sam's jaw, setting the pliers down on the table.

"Who is it, Martin?" Gordon barked and slid off the table, irritable.

"Dunno," his friend replied, "Can't see with their lights-"

"Well, go out there and tell them to piss off!" Gordon ordered.

Sam was craning his neck to try and see what was going on, he had a partial view of the doorway and saw a dark vehicle sitting right in front of the steps, the make and model unknown in the glow of its high beams.

He heard the creak of squeaky hinges as the door was opened and footsteps as the car's occupant stepped out.

"Hello?" a voice called, a very familiar voice, and Sam's heart nearly stopped beating, "Sammy? Hello? Anybody home?"

Dean… It was Dean… he was here… Oh no, he couldn't be here. He shouldn't be here. Sam had to get his brother away.

"Dean!" Sam shouted as loudly as he could, "Get away! Run away!"

"Sammy?" his brother called in response, "Sammy!"

The young man heard his brother's crashing footsteps hurry up the cabin's wooden steps and he shoved the door open, hitting Lenore's body with the door as he did so.

"Sam?" Dean called and gagged on the scent of blood pervading the small cabin.

He hadn't seen Martin or Gordon yet.

"What-" he began when a gunshot stopped him before he could get the rest of his question out.

Sam watched in horror as his brother frowned and glanced down at the growing red circle on his chest.

"Dean!" Sam cried, struggling furiously against the ropes and tape holding him to the chair, "Dean! No!"

He saw Gordon shove Martin's gun back at him and turn towards him, completely ignoring Dean now.

Sam's brother collapsed to his knees in the doorway, dying.

"You son of a bitch!" Sam shouted, rocking the chair back and forth dangerously in his efforts to escape, "Why did you do that?!"

Gordon turned to Sam and shrugged, "He'd have stopped me."

Sam snarled, seeing red. Gordon was insane; he was the monster here, not Sam, not Lenore and the others.

Sam heard Dean cough wetly and strained his neck to see his brother lying on his back, one hand resting limply against his chest.

"Dean!" the younger sibling shouted.

"Now, where were we?" Gordon asked and reached out to pick the pliers off the table.

With energy born of rage and fear, Sam pulled one arm up, the ropes binding it to the chair snapping and the tape tearing.

The dark-skinned hunter paused, only for a second, but it gave Sam the time he needed.

With inhuman strength, the young man wrenched his arm and both legs free of their restraints and stood up to his full height.

Gordon took a step backwards, his eyes frantically searching for a weapon.

"Martin!" he called, "Kill him!"

Sam tore his gaze away from Gordon Walker to see his friend standing by the door, mouth open in shock.

Growling, Gordon lunged for his partner, snatching the machete he held from his lax hand and turned to face Sam.

The young man took a menacing step forward. He could hear his own blood pounding in his ears and the edges of his vision were a throbbing, pulsing red. Not only had Gordon killed his friends, he'd also shot his brother.

He was not going to make it out of this cabin alive.

Sam darted forward with supernatural speed and grabbed Gordon, finger's digging into the man's shoulder.

The hunter raised his machete and slashed, clearly only concerned now with killing.

But Sam was standing too close and instead of cutting into his neck, the blade cut a diagonal gash across his chest.

With his free hand, Sam grabbed Gordon's wrist and bent it backwards until the man cried out in pain- the bone snapping with a resounding crack- and the machete fell from his limp fingers.

Sam opened his mouth, fangs bared, saliva dripping, and darted his head forward, biting down on Gordon's throat so hard that his teeth came together through flesh.

The hunter went him in Sam's hold, bleeding out almost instantaneously. The young man lifted his head and caught sight of Gordon's friend tripping over Dean's body in his haste to get out of the cabin. Sam ignored him though, the rage he felt only seconds ago was fading quickly.

Releasing the hunter's body, Sam stepped over Gordon carelessly and rushed to his brother's side, blood still dripping down his chin.

"Dean!" Sam cried and peered anxiously down at his injured sibling.

Dean's chest was not moving, his eyes half-closed and glassy.

"No," Sam whimpered, wiping his face off, "No, please, please, wake up."

He took hold of Dean's shoulders and shook him gently. There was no response.

"Dean," Sam whispered, "Please…"

Sam sat back on his haunches and raked his hand through his long hair.

Dean couldn't be dead. He just couldn't. Not Dean. Not when Sam had just managed to get back to his family. Not when Dad was ready to apologize and support him.

"Please…" Sam breathed, tears welling up in his eyes.

Sam reached out to close his brother's eyelids when he paused.

Oh no… he couldn't. Could he?

A thought, both wonderful and horrible occurred to Sam and he bit his lip.

He didn't have time. He might already be too late. But he had to try.

Lifting his hand to his mouth, Sam bit down hard on it, between his thumb and first finger, drawing blood.

Trembling slightly, Sam pressed his wounded hand hard against his brother's mouth, smearing blood against Dean's paling lips and hoping, praying, that he wasn't too late.

Carefully, Sam lifted Dean's torso, holding his brother against him in a tight hug.

"Please work," Sam muttered, squeezing his eyes shut, "Please… Please…"

Sam startled when he heard Dean gasp and struggle suddenly in his arms, snarling. He didn't release his brother though, even as Dean tried to shove him away, certain that his brother would calm down in a moment.

"It's okay, Dean," Sam whispered as his brother writhed, "It's alright. I've got you."

"Sam!" Dean cried, "What… What is this?!"

The younger brother's heart skipped a beat. Oh God, what have I done?

Dean gave one last healthy shove and Sam allowed his brother to disengage from the embrace. Dean's eyes were wide, the pupils large and although his face and lips were still pale- there was a bright red smear just beneath his lower lip that made him look as though he had been eating cherries- he was very much alive.

"Dean," Sam almost moaned, "I… I had to do it… you were dying… I thought you were dead… I didn't even think it would work I thought it was too late and if you hate me-"

Dean held a hand up to stop Sam before he had a panic attack. Taking a few deep breaths, Dean looked around the cabin as though to gather his thoughts.

"Did you…" he began but then stopped, "Am I… a vampire?"

Sam, his own eyes wide, nodded, "I'm sorry."

Dean stared at him for a moment before speaking again, "Holy shit."

Sam's brother glanced down before crying out, "You're hurt!"

Sam looked down and saw that his shirt was torn and stained with blood from the machete wound.

"I'm okay," he insisted, reaching out to grip Dean by his upper arms, "Are you?"

Dean nodded, "I feel great… thirsty… but better then I have in a while…."

Sam didn't return the gesture when Dean smiled. Standing, the younger brother held out a hand and helped his older sibling up.

"We should take care of them," Sam muttered, glancing at Claudia and Lenore's bodies, "We can't just leave them here like this."

Dean nodded, narrowing his eyes when he caught sight of Gordon Walker's body, a pool of dark blood beneath his head.

"What the hell was this piece of shit trying to do to you?" Dean asked and kicked at the hunter's body.

"He was just about to rip my teeth out," Sam told him, shuddering at how close Gordon had actually come to doing just that.

Dean stared at him, "Didn't he care that you were a hunter's kid? And not just any hunter, John Winchester's kid?"

Sam shrugged, "I guess not. I guess he'd just say that I attacked him first and he had to kill me if you or Dad found out what he'd done."

Dean looked back down at the dark-skinned hunter.

"I didn't trust him the second we met."

"He's dead now," Sam muttered, "So he won't be able to hurt anyone else."

Dean nodded and was about to step over the Gordon's body when Sam grabbed his arm.

"I killed him," the younger man whispered, horrified, "Dean… I killed a hunter!"

"So? Son of a bitch deserved it."

"Don't you understand? His friend saw everything, he knows who I am. Others are going to come after me," Sam exclaimed, panicking.

Dean smiled soothingly and patted Sam's hand on his arm.

"And risk messing with John Winchester?" he asked, "I don't think so. Dad won't let anyone hunt you, Sammy."

Sam gazed unbelievingly at his brother, "You… You think so?"

Dean nodded, "We'll tell Dad what happened, that it was self-defense… because it was… and he won't be able to argue with that… besides, if he's really sincere and wants to apologize and try and be a father again, he'll have to believe you."

Sam didn't look convinced but he nodded anyway.

The brothers next turned their attention to laying Lenore and the others to rest. They located Eli and Pierce's bodies in the trees bordering the path that led to the cabin- they must have just been getting back from feeding when they were killed, Lenore and Claudia already inside- and built a pyre fit for a hunter's funeral.

Dean let Sam do the honours and light the construction of wood alight, his throat feeling swollen as he did so. These vampires hadn't harmed anybody, they had taken his brother in, taught him to hunt and befriended him, and for that they had been ruthlessly murdered.

Sam stepped back as the orange flames greedily licked at the branches covering his four friends' earthly remains, sniffing sadly. Dean stepped forward and put an arm around his shoulders, comforting him.

"I'm sorry, Sammy," he murmured, seeing moisture on his brother's cheeks when he looked at him from the corner of his eye.

Sam nodded, leaning against his brother as he watched the fire crackle merrily.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

Sam and Dean remained in Stony Creek the next day. Although Dean wanted to head out right after the funeral pyre for Lenore and the others had burned down to embers, Sam had reminded him about the long drive back to Bobby's and that it would be daylight soon. Reluctantly, Dean had agreed to stay until night fell.

The brothers did not again enter the cabin; instead they sat at the edge of the forest, underneath the shade of a large pine tree, not speaking much.

As soon as the sun had set, Dean called their father and told John to meet them at Bobby's.

"Are you okay to drive?" Sam asked his brother anxiously.

Dean looked a little pale but he insisted he was fine.

"Maybe you should eat something," Sam suggested but Dean shook his head, "I just want to get back to Sioux Falls. Don't you want to put this place in the rearview mirror?"

Sam nodded but glanced back at the cabin sadly. Dean, sensing his brother's grief still lingering, squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.

"There's nothing more you can do, Sammy," he told his younger sibling, "Come on, let's go."

Sam opened the passenger side door to the Impala and sat down, Dean slipping into the driver's seat and starting the classic Chevy.

"It's going to be okay," Dean assured him, "I promise."

Pulling down the leaf-strewn pathway, Dean turned on the radio to cut the silence in the vehicle and grimaced as Marilyn Manson's 'Redeemer' began to play, quickly changing the channel and smiling when AC/DC's 'Night Prowler' started up instead.

SPN

John Winchester sat at Bobby Singer's kitchen table, across from his sons, beer bottle resting untouched in his hands. He had driven as fast as he could back to Sioux Falls, arriving there before his sons and grilled his friend about where Dean and Sam were. Bobby, however, had been kept in the dark- the only one who knew the youngest Winchester's location was his brother- and so both men had waited on pins and needles for the telltale growl of the Impala to be heard coming up the driveway.

"…They hadn't hurt anybody," Sam said sadly, "And Gordon just killed them."

Dean, sitting close to his sibling, nodded in agreement.

"That son of a bitch attacked Sammy's friends and then he laid in wait for him!" the older brother snarled vehemently, still enraged at the late hunter's actions, "He poisoned Sam with dead man's blood and was gonna torture him, him and his sick buddy of his."

John saw Bobby frown and lean forward.

"Do you know who was with Gordon? Did he ever say his name?" the veteran hunter asked and Sam nodded, "Martin… I don't know his last name."

Sam's eyes suddenly widened in realization, "He got away! He knows who I am… what I am!"

Dean turned to his brother, "He's not going to hurt you, Sammy. Dad and Bobby and I won't let him."

"Hm," Bobby muttered, "Martin… Probably was Martin Creaser."

Now it was John's turn to frown. He had worked with the man a couple of times in the past and wasn't too keen on having him as a hunting partner, the guy was far too twitchy for John's liking, made him nervous that Martin would bolt and leave him at the mercy at whatever threat they were up against.

"Never trusted the man myself," Bobby commented, "He always seemed one bad case away from ending up in a padded room, if you ask me."

"What happened to Gordon?" John asked, having a feeling he knew exactly what had happened but he wanted his sons to tell him.

Sam glanced down, "He's dead."

"That bastard shot me," Dean said quickly before their father could say anything, "Sam was only protecting me."

Sam looked up; his green eyes moist, "You almost died, Dean."

John saw his eldest son's expression soften and he reached up to squeeze the nape of his brother's neck.

"Sam only did what he did to save me," he said, staring pointedly at John, "I would have died otherwise."

"What did you do?" Bobby asked.

John couldn't say anything; all he could do was stare at his sons.

"I panicked!" Sam exclaimed, "Gordon shot Dean in the chest and he wasn't breathing and… and-"

"And Sammy turned me," Dean said with finality and crossed his arms over his chest.

John felt his mouth go dry and his lips parted in an 'o' of surprise.

"He what?!" the father stammered.

"Dad-" Sam began but John interrupted.

"You… You turned your own brother into a vampire?" the father asked and Sam bit his lip, gaze lowering in shame.

"He didn't have a choice, Dad!" Dean exclaimed, "What was he supposed to do? Call an ambulance? There wasn't time!"

John closed his mouth, shocked at his eldest's outburst and also at the sight of sharp fangs slipping down over Dean's human teeth in his anger.

Abruptly John stood.

"Johnny," Bobby said but the father held a hand out, "Give me a minute."

The hunter turned away from his sons and stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room, raking a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair.

John closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Sam had done the only thing he could do. Sure, it went against everything John believed in as a hunter but it had saved Dean's life.

"Dad?"

John turned around and saw Sam staring at him from the kitchen doorway.

"Yeah, Sam?" he asked and his son took a cautious step forward.

"Please don't hate me," Sam begged, "I… I didn't want to do it. I didn't even know if it would work and I-"

"Stop," John said and Sam did, staring at him with wide green eyes.

"You saved Dean's life," John said, "The way you did so shouldn't matter."

Sam relaxed visibly and he offered a weak smile.

"But we have to make things right now," John continued and headed back into the kitchen, Sam returning to his seat ahead of him.

Dean was almost glaring at his father and John guessed he deserved it after his outburst.

Without sitting down, the father looked at his sons, "We have to fix this. We have to change Dean back."

"What?" his eldest son asked, looking shocked.

"Gordon's spell," John elaborated, "He said it needed blood from the vampire who turned the victim to work. Sam turned you, Dean, so we can use his blood to change you back to human now."

"No," Dean replied simply, "I don't want it."

John frowned, "What… what do you mean you don't want it? We have to change you back."

His eldest shook his head, "It's not fair."

"What do you mean, son?" Bobby asked, curiously.

"We can't change Sam back into human," Dean reminded them, "So why should I get to be human again?"

"Dean," John said, "This isn't about what's fair. You can't stay like this."

Dean shook his head, "I won't do it. Besides, we don't even know how much blood we need, what if its all of Sam's blood? Would you still want to do it?"

John scowled, "Of course not!"

"Bobby," Dean turned his hazel eyes on the older hunter, "How much blood? How much?"

All the Winchesters turned to look at the veteran hunter, putting him on the spot.

Bobby, keeping his poker face intact, bowed to Dean's wishes. It wasn't his decision to make, what Dean did. The young man wasn't his son and he was certainly old enough to make his own choices.

"You need all the blood from the sire," he lied. Truth be told, he didn't even know how much blood was required; he didn't know anymore about this spell then the Winchesters did. Its true nature had died with Gordon Walker.

John swallowed. He was not going to sacrifice one son for the other. He'd never do that.

"Okay," he said quietly, "We'll… we'll think of something else."

"The way I see it," Bobby said, "There's only one thing to do."

The Winchesters looked expectantly at him, the grizzled hunter's stern voice making all three nervous.

"What?" Dean asked, "What Bobby?"

The hunter smiled, "Take a long vacation."

The look all three Winchesters gave him was priceless and the hunter chuckled.

"I think y'all deserve a break," he told them, "You've been apart from one another for long enough, it's about time you got the chance to be a family again."

"My friend Rufus Turner's got an old cabin out in Montana," Bobby continued, seeing Dean start to smile, "He don't use it much anymore and I don't think he'd mind if you borrowed it for a while. I can call an' let him know you're coming."

"What about… food?" Sam asked anxiously.

Bobby almost laughed, "There's loads of deer out there, son. Ol' Rufus even says he caught a grizzly bear on his porch once."

Dean nudged Sam's shoulder.

"Bears," he whispered, eyebrows raised and Sam chuckled.

"Only if you're okay with that, Johnny," Bobby said and turned his grey eyes on his friend.

John shifted from one foot to the other, suddenly the center of attention.

He looked at Sam; the son he had lost once due to his own stupidity and stubbornness and knew he couldn't let that happen again.

"Alright," he said, smiling, "Let's go."

SPN

It was dark when the Winchesters pulled up to Rufus Turner's cabin in the dense forests surrounding Whitefish, Montana.

Sam was still awake, Dean's head resting against his shoulder and drooling on his shirt in his sleep.

Before making the seventeen-hour journey Dean had insisted on completing the transformation. Although Sam could see the pain in his father's eyes at his brother's statement, John hadn't disagreed and so Bobby had taken a drive down to Sioux Falls General.

"Sam," John had caught his youngest son's attention as he and Dean sat on the couch watching television, waiting for Bobby to return.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Dean had looked at his brother, barely veiled concern on his face but Sam had told him he'd be okay, even if he wasn't certain he would be. He had no idea what John might say to him now.

Sam left Dean to watch the TV and followed his father into the kitchen, trying not to be anxious.

John was leaning his back against the sink, beer in hand.

"Dad?" Sam asked, looking nervously at the older man.

"I wanted to talk to you in private," his father said and sat the beer bottle down on the counter beside the sink.

"What did you want to talk about?" the younger man asked and John sighed, his dark eyes suddenly bright with tears.

"I never did get a chance to apologize," John said and Sam froze, staring at his father.

"Dad?" he asked, his heart beginning to pound in his chest for some reason.

"I'm sorry, Sam," his father lamented, "I'm sorry I pushed you away. I'm sorry I let you go out alone all those years ago… maybe… maybe none of this would have happened if I had gone with you."

"Dad," Sam said but John continued.

"I should have been there when Dean found you," he said, "I should have gone to the hospital when he said you were ill… I should have… Damn it! I should have been a better father!"

The eldest Winchester stepped forward and grabbed his son's upper arms, tightly but not painfully.

"You're not dead," John whispered and Sam frowned in confusion, "You're not dead."

The father drew his son in close and embraced Sam in a fierce hug, as though John expected his boy to disappear if he didn't hold onto him.

Sam felt tears well up in his own eyes and he grabbed his father in an equally strong hug, something he'd wanted to do for a long, long time.

"It's okay, Dad," Sam muttered, his throat thick with unshed tears, "It's okay. You're here now."

Sam didn't know how long they stood there for, long enough though for Dean to come and investigate and smirk.

"Wow, Sammy," he called from the kitchen doorway, drawing his two family member's attention to him, "I think you used up all your chick-flick moments for the year with that one."

In the backseat of the Impala, with his brother's drool cooling on his shoulder, Sam smiled.

It had been a difficult road to get where he was now and he was certain that it was going to be just as challenging in the future but he knew he would be able to face whatever obstacles stood in his way because he wasn't alone anymore. The years of loneliness and hopelessness seemed to wither away with the knowledge that Sam had his family with him and that they would support him every step of the way, just as he would do for them.

"Hey Sammy," Dean muttered as he woke up, yawning and stretching, "I bet you can't take down one of Rufus' grizzly bears."

Sam looked at his brother, "You wanna bet?"

Dean smiled back at him and shoved open the back door of the Impala, Sam doing the same for the door on the opposite side of the car and the two brothers bounded out into the darkness.

"Dean! Sam!" John called from the driver's seat, sitting back once he lost sight of them and sighed, a smile forming on his lips.

Glancing at his own reflection in the rearview mirror, John sighed, feeling as though a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders and a pleasant warm weight settle into his chest instead. He had both his sons with him and although not everything was as it had once been, one thing was for certain, it was a hell of a lot better.


End file.
